


A more than worthy Job Well Done

by ew_selfish_art



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Daminette, F/M, MariBat, You absolutely cannot date your clients, but also you totally can date a superhero, damian will have feelings and we will call it growth, marinette cannot talk to boys and this is a hill i will die on, marinette has so many feelings, sibling time between the bat fam is the best time, young adult feelings are so difficult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27322879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ew_selfish_art/pseuds/ew_selfish_art
Summary: Damian knew that the new designer chosen from Edna Mode's new office in Gotham would be interesting- all interns tended to be a little more than he could handle, but typically for very different reasons. Marinette knew that she wanted to get her work done and that, honestly, villains were such a pain to deal with. When the Joker disrupts what was meant to be a  fashion consultation for the end of the year Wayne Gala, Damian and Marinette are more focused on the odd nature of one another rather than the psycho clown saying the same things he always does.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 133
Kudos: 768





	1. The Beginning has fun Music

“Okay, I understand that you hate this and probably hate me, but I need this internship to work out and your compliance is fundamental to that right now.” Marinette spoke with a yet-to-be-defeated tone towards the black-haired, scowling client. Who, she should mention, had dived away from her at the sound of the sirens headed towards the building while some sort of circus music played over the loudspeakers in the building.

“Tt. You don’t understand the situation at hand-“ He continued to glare while he sat squat behind her drafting table.

“No; I understand perfectly clear that you’re to stubborn to do what your dad paid for you to come here to do.” She felt her posture shift onto one hip and having had the experience of designing for Chloe, was contemplating what stupid games his bored, privileged mind would come up with before he let her do her job.

“No, you don’t understand that the Joker has escaped Arkham and that we are in danger-“ She groaned but allowed herself to be pulled down by the young man into a more hidden, not standing in the middle of an open room, position.

“Sure, but that happens like every week. I’ve been in America for a month now, and there is no less chaos than when I left France.” The doors down the hall were being violently opened, the banging reverberated through the walls even though the loud clown-themed musical annoyance.

“Stop interrupting me! My name is Damian Wayne and I’m on the psychos first to grab for ransom list, we need to leave here immediately!” She figured that the look he was shooting her normally made people feel like they were another step in the grave, but befriending Kagami all those years ago meant that this particular glare held no weight. She sighed, rolling her neck, turning to look him in the eyes. He glared harder if that was at all possible.

Just then, the music died and the lights went out. Marinette assumed that in all this broad daylight, the Batman family shut the whole thing down because working in the shadows was their “thing”. She could have scoffed at this if not for her annoyance with Mr. Wayne.

“No, YOU need to leave after I get your measurements and feedback on the designs ive created for you, and then YOU can keep me out of your rich person problems!” She whisper shouted as the two squatted away from the flashing lights coming in from the hallway. Hiding behind and between the mannequins as well as her drafting table meant that their silhouettes were well disguised to the lights that flashed briefly into the room and then out. Clearly, the goons responsible for finding her client were wary of the Bats and had decided against throwing doors open. Damian considered it briefly to be a stroke of dumb luck.

Damian didn’t refute but opted to turn away from her in annoyance and begin to shuffle to see more of the situation. It was then that Marinette took out her measuring tape and followed his stealthy movements to the corner. It was a more tactical position, she mentally agreed, close to the window to see out and closer to the second entrance of the office, one that the goons had yet to notice.

Seated in an unpleasant silence, Marinette decided no time was like the present and began placing her tape in alignment to his shoulder and wrist.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” He whispered with a single, angry, incredulous breath.

“You’re absolutely right.” She responded in equal, angry, brevity. She whipped out her pen and began writing the measurements on her arm, having now collected numbers for his arm length, shoulder width and having lasso-ed him for his chest, waist and hips.

He stood abruptly, the hair on the back of his neck rising as he heard a shallow laugh start to echo on the same floor of the office building. It was far, but too close for comfort without his mask and suit on his person. He began trying to make sense of the small view afforded to him by the frosted glass window.

“Cut it out!” He whispered down at Marinette who had made quick work to collect the measurement of his inseam, and he was flabbergasted to see that she actually rolled her eyes at him. At a time like this! He could swear that despite all of the very obvious reasons to stop doing your job for the sake of self-preservation, this insane French woman was cooler than an arctic sea breeze.

Sure enough, his suspicions were proven correct, the door swung open in a bang and a loud laugh to show the figure of not just a goon, but the Clown Prince of Gotham himself.

“There you are you spoiled Wayne-“ But his tirade was cut off by his scream as an open stapler landed violently into his forehead, stapling with a bulls-eye. Damian looked down to see that Marinette was no longer with her hands near his crotch measuring him, but throwing more office supplies from her desk with a no-nonsense scowl not unlike his own.

Despite being more incredulous than ever, he didn’t miss the beat, and charged the screaming clown. Joker began again spewing his normal monologues and maniacal cheers, but the young man was able to make quick work of getting the oversized handgun out of his clutches. Damian blocked a few punches and did his best to ignore the famously cruel taunts the clown regularly hollered in favor of landing another solid fist into his throat. Marinette had stopped throwing things it seemed, and the next he saw of her, she stood behind the Joker, measuring tape in hand, and having calculated his weight against Damian’s to slide a foot below him, trip him and tie up the clown like a hog.

“You Fucking BRATS-“his obnoxious tirade ended when a single sucker-punch landed on him from the petite half-Asian woman.

“So.. I’m thinking you might look nice in a dark floral print. Nothing ostentatious of course but something with a bit more flare than the basic black suit you’ve worn on red carpets in the past.” She started saying as she doubled down on her knots securing the mentally ill terrorist. He noticed that she had not even broken a sweat, and no heavy breathes came out of her.

“You just helped to take down the Joker and you’re back to talking about fashion? Who the hell are you lady?” For once, disdain was not laced into his voice, instead, it was replaced with disbelieving wonder.

“Helped? I think I did more than you… but go off. And yes, we only have so much time for this consultation and I refuse to waste any more of it on brief inconveniences.” She stood physically on the joker’s back now, giving her an extra foot to better look him in the eyes, not that it quite worked of course, she really was short.

“What on earth could motivate you so much at a time like this to do your unpaid internship?”

“It’s a paid internship thank you very much! And its my business what my motivations are. So, again, how do you feel about a dark floral?”

“I don’t even know what that means but if it makes you happy then fine!” He yelled back at her.

The room was then illuminated, as the blinds opened abruptly, and the ceiling once again had power to light the fluorescent fixtures. Batman stood in the room, a solid face giving nothing away to the naked eye. But Damian could sense his confusion and groaned. The normal respectful façade he would show to his father in the cowl was making no appearance today.

“Oh good, you’ve decided to show up. Could you take the Joker away now? My designer here doesn’t want to waste any more time on him apparently.” Damian could tell instantly that he was going to get an ear full for his response once he returned to the manor, but he couldn’t bring himself to care given the strange company in the room.

“Ma’am, I’m going to ask that you step down from the Joker. I can assure you that he is a very dangerous criminal and will likely not be halted by the measuring tape once he wakes up.” She glanced down once more at the sight of the man beneath her feet and took a short step off and away from him.

“Oui Monsieur Batman, please take him far from me, he has impeded on some very valuable time.”

“He tends to do that.” Was the brief, deep-toned response, as the Batman took the unconscious circus-themed villain and threw him over his singular shoulder.

“Thank you, Monsieur Batman, Have a wonderful rest of your day!” She gave a bright smile to the man who was absolutely taking his time to inspect every detail of the woman in front of him, she seemed like a non-threat but he could tell that she made his son uneasy. Bruce decided to chalk it up to hormones and quickly moved through the room to leave.

Out the door, Marinette made her way to her desk and began transcribing the numbers off of her arm and into her notes. Damian, who gathered he would be followed should he try to leave, took the chair that was upside down in front of her desk, flipped it right side up and took a seat.

“Okay so- I have your measurements and dark florals have been decided but let's talk lapels-“

“Are you okay?”

“Yes but-“

“You mentioned chaos in France and you just took down the Joker.”

“Yes and I’m moving past that now-“

“Who are you really? Why are you here?”

“Uh. I think it’s pretty obvious I am here to do my job and my name Marinette Dupain-Cheng is literally on the door.”

“So you mean to tell me that all French designers know how to detain career criminals or you just had the best luck of your life in taking down one of the most dangerous terrorists in America?”

“You’re being very dramatic, it's not like he was aiming a gun or anything after you knocked it away from him… he’s an overgrown bully if you ask me.”

“Right. Well.”

“Shall we continue?” She huffed.

“You’re really not fazed by this?” a singular eyebrow made its way up as he asked his. The young woman in front of him, pencil hitting paper as she began working on a concept… had the best work ethic he had ever seen.

“No, Paris has more exciting Akuma attacks daily- well it did. And I braved those, so this is really nothing more than water on a goose’s back.” She waved her hand back and forth a few times, the pencil that she held between her fingers going flying. “Ah I’m such a clutz.” She self-scolded as she moved to grab the pencil now rolling aware from her on the floor.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what to say to you. Most people don’t handle these situations well, much less work through them.”

“I am obviously not most peo-“ She slipped on the loose office notes after retrieving the pencil, falling to the floor in a near crash, had he not reacted as quickly as he did. Now he had her in his arms, and she looked at him for a moment, eyes wide for the first time this afternoon, before scrambling to lift herself up and out of said arms. Arms that she most certainly would try and fail not to think about later as she worked on his couture suit.

“Thanks for the save- I really do have two left feet.” Marinette now added a smile to the man, after being less than her normal ray of sunshine to the man this whole time. It was like looking upon a field of flowers, he would never admit to himself later, when he wondered about the suit that she would be crafting for him.

“Not a problem…A very sudden case of two-footed atypia.” He bewildered. Had he not just seen her take down the Joker not ten minutes earlier? His brain was starting to hurt by trying to add her up.

“Yes, well, no one can be graceful all the time. Back to my notes, however…” And suddenly she was launched into a larger discussion about buttons, stitches, and the grand architecture of clothes. He couldn’t help but watch her every minute movement, answering only when necessary and taking in the details he could about Ms. Dupain Cheng, he had a feeling she would not be someone he lost track of in Gotham.

Eventually, it rounded nearer to the end of his appointed consult time and she was just as adamant that he should take his leave punctually, lest he be late for other engagements.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Monsieur Wayne. I Look forward to working with you on this look for the next premier, here is a copy of today’s notes should you have any questions and my card should you have any questions that they can’t answer.” She stood and walked to his side of the desk, where he now rose from his own chair only after watching her movements.

“You have the best work ethic of anyone I have ever seen. And I don’t think anyone has called me a pleasure to meet.” Was that a small smile he felt his lips curl into?

“Hm. You’re very admirable M. Wayne and I appreciate all that you have gone through with keeping this appointment. I’ll be seeing you soon!” She smiled once again, and it was as though sunflowers bloomed in front of his eyes. He was struck with a sense of awe, one that he was unfamiliar with. He averted his gaze to take the notes from her hands, noting that they were immaculate if only for half being in French next to her illustrations.

The two approached the door, and Damian, for the first time a while since adjusting to the lifestyle of his father, could not feel more like a fish out of water. How could he psychoanalyze the most wretched villains, solve the most heinous crimes and understand nothing about the woman who was now pushing him through the door, ink splattered across her arms of his own measurements and a bright smile on her face after fighting the most criminally insane villain in Gotham?

Damian knew that Edna Mode hired only the best for her interns, but what kind of life did they have to go through in order to get the job? He was outside her office door now, and in a seemingly out of character response to the afternoon- his stomach flipped upside down and he couldn’t stop himself from asking: “would you like to get coffee sometime?”

Marinette laughed like a bell, before responding with a “Have a great afternoon!” and closing the door in his face.

Damian was halfway to his car before he realized exactly what he had asked her, the implications of the question and the implications of her response. Upon reaching his car, he sat inside the black leather interior for a long moment- realizing also that he had to continue a working relationship with the woman who had struck an unbelievably high first introductions record, and who had just turned down an invitation for a date. Had he really asked her out? How did those words come out of his mouth? Why could he not comprehend this small overly professional woman?

Damian drove away, headed to the manor despite his mind being occupied entirely elsewhere. Elsewhere of course being the office of one very precocious up-and-coming French designer.

____________________________________

Meanwhile, Marinette had a long scream into her office couch cushions and could not get her face to go from the dark red it had turned to a normal pink blush.

What was she thinking, playing the hero in a new city without a mask? Turning down the chance at a date with the very handsome and rarely kind-hearted Damian Wayne? She knew his reputation as the Ice Prince of Gotham, and yet he was so courteous and considerate of her, enough so to ask her out to coffee? Her brain was short-circuiting and she hated herself for being so predictably melted down by a boy with vibrant green eyes.

She pushed herself off the couch and groaned loudly for no one to hear, the office was undoubtedly emptied post terroristic threat. She practiced her normally akuma or Adrien induced anxiety meditation, trying to collect her wits about her.

She opened her eyes only for a moment to look over her notes and oh boy there she was thinking about being held in his arms again. She slapped her hand across her eyes, and she could have laughed if not for how miserable she felt at the way things went today.

Edna Mode expected the best from her up and comings and the threat of the Joker is one she doubted counted for late work. Marinette didn’t feel as though she got too behind at least.

“Did that all really just happen Tikki?” She asked aloud to the small fortune-god she knew was hiding among her office plants.

“You know Marinette- it all really did.” The god flew over to sit before her as she spoke and Tikki was very clearly not contributing to solving Marinette’s confusion.

“You heard me decline his invitation to coffee too? Who do I think I am?”

“I should have known that what was occupying your mind.” Tikki said with a good-humored sigh. “I think you did what was right for a business relationship and you can explain that when he comes in for his fitting in a few days! After he’s no longer a client you should take the initiative to ask him out!”

“I think it would be like putting both of my entire feet into my mouth if I were to try that- did you see those green eyes? You know I don’t work well around those gazing at me!”

Tikki turned to the direction of the door and gave a contemplative pause.

“Gazing or glaring? He wasn’t all that pleasant before or during the attack by Joker. Even after, he just seemed more stunned than anything.”

“Oh shush, I made best friends of Kagami didn’t I? A rough exterior means very little Tikki.”

“Normally I would agree… but the boy had an unnatural amount of chaos energy on him. His anger might be dangerous!”

“Dangerous? I mean he did disarm the clown but he wasn’t exactly bloodthirsty Tikki. I think maybe we need a closer look at his aura before deciding if his chaos energy is something to be concerned about.”

And with that, Marinette stood from her desk and began to collect her things. No one was here to tell her off for leaving early, and she knew would not be getting any work done in the uninspiring atmosphere of corporate America. She was leaving after a terrorist attack technically, so who would blame her?

She shrugged her back over her shoulder, opening a small hidden pocket on the side for Tikki to fly into, and once she was secured she opened her office door.

There she all but knocked into The Edna Mode, her boss, who had personally hired her, who had an arm raised to knock and eyebrows high above the frame of her round glasses.

“Marinette Darling, I was just wondering if you were going to be leaving. I am having a cleaning company come through and sanitize the mess that the horrendously dressed circus clown wrought upon my fortress.”

“Of course Mme Mode! I was just headed out, my client finished out our meeting and I wanted to secure my notes before I went to work at home.”

“The young and impetuous Damian Wayne stayed through your appointment? Darling, you are painting a very interesting picture!”

“Yes- he’s truly not a fashion-forward person but I will make him extraordinary yet!”

“Yes, you shall succeed in this I have no doubts.” She gave a wave of her hand before continuing.

“Hmm perhaps the title of intern is one to insignificant for you after all- come to my office Monday for a debriefing. Do not question me child I can see your brain cells making contact, now go! Enjoy your weekend! Leave!”

And sure enough Marinette was given more questions about Americans than ever as she was all but pushed out the door of her office building by someone who was even smaller than herself.

_______________________________________

“What do you mean? Demon spawn was rejected today? As in he asked someone out?” The red-hooded figure in the alleyway spoke into his communication device as he threw a punch in the direction of a petty thug. “No way! You're pulling my leg dude.”

“I’m not! I heard it loud as day- Dames asked her to coffee not long after she kicked Joker’s ass and Bats picked up the garbage to toss back into Arkham!” The red robin continued while patrolling on the rooftops across the city from the Red Hood.

“Wait- why did you stay around after Bats left in the first place?” Sounded off the eldest brother, Nightwing as he was on camera duty, double-checking the surveillance angles for the insane asylum north of the city.

“Because this chick was straight up the kid’s wet dream and I had to know what was going to happen! And I stand by my choices!” Red robin was giddy as he flew via his grappling hook to the next part of the dark city skyline.

“I mean, I think we all have the hots for someone who can take down the joker and isn’t a family member.” Red hood had made quick work of tying up the now incapacitated thug for the cops to find and responded in earnest.

“Okay but I don’t think youre getting the full picture- Our Dames, the most impatient asshole we know, who has a tolerance for no one- sat down and talked about fashion for twenty minutes with a chick that took down the Joker with nearly no help!”

“Oh shit.” Nightwing called out.

“Yeah! ‘ _Oh shit’_ is right!”

“No, I mean, oh shit, he’s with Oracle tonight and he’s definitely hearing every word of this.” And the conversation went quiet.

Suddenly the female voice of reason cut in on the costumed crusaders.

“So, I tried to stop him, but I am pretty sure he left to go fuck up your computers Red Robin.” The unmistakable voice of Babs, the woman behind the screen and former batgirl added in.

Equally unmistakable was the sound of a quiet but panicked _Goddammmit_ by Red Robin as his patrol route was abandoned in favor of rushing home to salvage what he could before demon spawn got to every piece of technology he owned. Damian was notorious for not giving a singular fuck when pissed off, and he had no doubt he would find his Nintendo snapped in half and a katana in his monitor beside some very sad computer parts.

Little did they know that the night would only get more interesting from there.


	2. The Next part has a big Dog

“Good to meet you?” The upside-down Red hood announced, having been flipped out of the way of a very obnoxious machine gun by what appeared to be a red beetle themed hero with a Yo-yo.

“Sure!” The young female figure joyfully quipped, releasing him and making quick work at launching the apparently semi-lethal toy in the direction of the gunned goon with precision. Jason wasn’t quite sure what to make of the vigilante in front of him, but he didn’t really need to because it became very apparent that his siblings were coming from the woodwork to assess her. The remaining threats had gone silent and that was his first indication that he was not the only one of the Bats to be present.

Marinette reeled in her famous Ladybug yo-yo, and for a moment she felt back in one piece like she really was going to balance the chaos in this town after all. She knew the man was watching her, and that likely he had the rest of the Batman clan coming in soon if not already present, so she decided to make a show of it.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” And with a bright flourish, her favorite partners in justice began their swarm to clean up. As always, they made quick work to repair the damage of her fight, and she noted that even the stab wound Red Hood acquired became healed. Marinette really loved her job sometimes and getting to see his amazement at the magical bugs made her heart soar with pride.

“So, uh… you new to the hero game or just new around here?” Red hood put on his more typical gruff voice, trying hard not to let his amazement known. He was grateful for the hood when these rare instances came up, he didn’t have to steal his expressions away as his half-masked siblings did.

“Gods I’m getting old, yeah, I guess you could say I’m new in town. My name is Ladybug, its nice to meet you too.” She held out a hand to shake which he firmly grasped. He would have expected a dainty hold given the size of the woman but no, he was met with equal grip.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. Ladybug.” Came a voice from the shadows, Robin stood out just barely from the brick wall, only his horrendous color scheme made him noticeable.

“For real! What a nifty trick!” The less serious voice of the Spoiler came aloud from a nearby rooftop, beside her stood Red-Robin who was squatted looking at the newly fixed gargoyle he was certain had been obliterated. He let out a loud Humm but nodded to her none the less.

Ladybug gave a smile at the two on the roof and nodded back, Robin who had remained in the alley was making mental notes of her disguise. The red and black theme scattered about, with black mid-calf boots and black opera gloves seemingly painted on her skin, he wondered if the suit was as magically designed as her repair spell. If Ladybug knew he was assessing her she made no obvious notion towards him. But she began to wind up and prepare to toss her yo-yo.

“I’m glad you like it! My magic repaired Paris more times than the human mind can count, so hopefully, I can start to make a change in Gotham. For now, though, Au Revoir!” And off she went, the yo-yo attaching to a rooftop impossibly out of range for the small string, but she was out of sight soon enough.

“Getting your ass saved by magic users now Hood?” spoke Robin, now walking his way and taking in the lack of fresh scar or blood on his abdomen. His relief at the lack of wound was not surprising to Jason Todd, but endearing none the less. His little demon spawn had evolved in so many ways to be the vigilante that stood before him.

“Whatever brat. Well, you all heard her- she’s new around here, it sounds like she’s been in the international game. She had a French accent too.”

“I’ll check to see if she’s licensed with the Justice League.” Came the voice of Oracle over the comms.

And with that the family members dispersed, each going their own way to finish a patrol route or follow a lead. Red hood happened to notice that the Baby bird was headed in the same direction of the spotted evening spectacle, but he made no comment on it. There would be plenty of time to tease him at the Joker debriefing the next day. The Red Hood made his way back to his long-forgotten motorcycle and chuckled to himself, being twenty-two was doing wonders for his little brother.

* * *

Reaching home in time to release her transformation and make herself a late-night snack, Marinette decided it would be too exhausting to think about her day, and instead try to get herself to sleep.

She sat for a brief moment in her small kitchenette, bagel with cream cheese in her hand and adrenalin from swinging through a new city coursing through her veins. She sighed for what had to be the thirtieth time that day. Mental exhaustion was always the worst kind, well, right after emotional, but with no Hawkmoth to fear coming for her blatant stress, she was much happier overall.

Her phone sat on the charging pad by her bedside but clearly, she had not turned notifications off for the night, she could hear it ringing through the one wall that separated the common area from her bedroom. It was the only wall in the apartment, and just like the four that boxed her in, it was thin. She grumbled, taking another bite before heading into the room to grab the cellular device.

It was Adrien. She steeled a breath and hit the green accept button that floated on her screen. She meandered into the living room, lying down rather than sitting on her couch.

“Hey Cat-boy.” She spoke softly in an easy native French but he laughed brightly.

“Hey Bug, I saw that the Joker escaped again and was in your building today. Your boss did an interview and everything.” He continued to have a tone of mirth but the reason for the call was clearly a check-in.

“Look I told you it would be cutting-edge fashion I was working on, Maybe the circus decided it needed a sense of design and color pallet.”

“Uh-huh. So, you had nothing to do with him being taken down?” to say that Adrien sounded wary would be an understatement.

“Surely the article you read said that Batman took him away from the scene?” Deflection sometimes worked on the short attention spanned cat. She was hoping now would be one of those sometimes.

“Yeah, wrapped up and tied with a measuring tape! Sorry Mari but this has your handiwork all over it.” It was not one of those sometimes.

“Ha, ha very funny… as long as you promise not to tell Chloe or Kagami… Yes, I took down the Joker today with my client in the room and it was the most embarrassing thing I have done yet.”

“You sure about that? You told me about the mismatched sock incident of week one.”

“Oh no don’t remind me!” She truly would never live down wearing striped and patterned socks to a fashion house on that fateful Tuesday morning, it seemed like yesterday but also a half a year ago. Time was Alix’s thing after all, her being unable to keep it straight was decidedly not her problem.

“But seriously, you’re okay? He’s notorious for not being exactly kind to people who stand up against him.” The mirth was completely gone from Adrien and suddenly she had her partner Chat Noir on the phone. The hero who was only careful after-the- fact in every attack could sue her for stealing his shtick.

“Yeah I really am good. Met some of the Gotham bats tonight too.”

“Bug, how did you transform with a client there?”

“…I didn’t. I took him down as, well, me.”

“Isn’t your name on the door?”

“I’m starting to understand your concern for my well-being. Yes, my name is on the door, and yes if he remembers that detail, he will be able to find me pretty quickly…”

“I’m glad you met the Bats then; Maybe Ladybug can ask them for a personal security detail for a pigtailed designer?” She began to mull it over, and he could sense that she was considering his words thoughtfully.

“Maybe. But I need to sleep now Adrien, have a great rest of your Saturday.” She sighed into the microphone, defeated for the first time that day, and unwilling to feel the dread in the pit of her stomach any longer than necessary. It was bedtime and she wasn’t going to miss out on a wink of sleep.

“Love you Bug.”

“Goodnight chaton.”

The apartment went silent as all the flying kwamis nestled in and Marinette sank into her couch, her half of a bagel going stale on the living room table.

* * *

Since her move from the City of Lights and Love, she has found that the tones, textures and pallets of Gotham city inspired her more than ever before. No longer was she surrounded by predictable French lines and colors, Marinette felt with every step she took that she was really going somewhere.

The original reason for her moving to Gotham was in a larger scheme to restore balance to the city with the power of the miraculous. And being that she is the Guardian of the miraculous, there was no one more eligible to do it. It took her strong but less than graceful stance to all of the remaining Parisian heroes to convince them that it was time to start healing the other tormented beauties of the world. The long fights going around and around with her team and with the Kwamis under her care, and the stress nearly put grey into her hair. But looking around the beautiful botanical garden in the center of the downtown district, old architecture still remained within the groves of gorgeous landscaping and vines.

Being the bug that she was, the greenery attracted more than a spoon of honey in tea, and walking near the plants she would note that they had an equal affinity towards her. Fresh flowers would bloom, leaves would turn her way and yellowed leaves turned a healthy green.

As fate would have it, a large Great Dane made its way over to her. She couldn’t recall animals being as enamored with her as plants but decided ignoring him might be best so that he might wander back to his owner. She sat below a pillar of bricks that long ago made an elegant archway, now covered in a blooming jasmine vine. The air was thick with its scent and the grace of the late morning environment delighted her almost to the point of squealing.

The dog, having decided to wait out its owner finding him, Titus his name tag said, sat near to Marinette. He was just out of reach for pets but just close enough to be in her personal bubble. _A social distanced infatuation_ she mentally decided, and let it well enough alone, turning to the coffee in her left hand and her sketch book now open in her lap.

The buzz of helicopters moved over head, and she remembered that this city was almost always a war zone, but the little pockets like this one existed all over. She knew the city could be redeemed from its chaotic state, if only needing very magical luck to get it there.

She sat there and sketched until morning turned to noon and her coffee cup emptied, the last drop wasted on grass after it tipped over accidently in the wind. Marinette needed these little disappointments sometimes to remember what it was like when they were the biggest issues in her life. Being 22 and making her own way in the fashion community wasn’t too shabby, but occasionally, how she longed to be 12 without any responsibilities again.

She got up from her morning oasis, collecting her things, when in the corner of her eye she noticed that Titus the dog stood up in time with her. Odd. And as she walked out of the park, she noted that until she took a step out of the perimeter before the concrete jungle, he followed her with gusto. Did the dog just adopt her? No matter, she was leaving in search of lunch and Wifi, and the dog seemed to stay put in the park.

Marinette walked on, and was none the wiser that Titus, smart, Good boy that he was, continued after her, tailing only a block away.

* * *

“You never stop working, do you?” Marinette heard over her shoulder and it was just well enough timed that her normally one-tracked mind let the sounds in enough to be mentally recognized, processed and then responded to with a very slow look around.

Damian Wayne, in a sensible black trench coat with a red scarf poking through the collar, was to her right on the street-facing side of her outdoor table. His hands grasped the chair in front of him, but he didn’t lean into the space, his hands on the chair seemingly to put a barrier between them.

“Oh! What a surprise, and um- no I’m not working- I mean I am working but I’m not working on you. I mean! Not working for you for Edna!” She groaned, defeated having put a foot in her mouth “Ugh, I mean to say that I am just doing my freelancing.”

“… Sure. Any chance I can have my dog back now?” He gave a short pause before saying this to her, apparently trying to mental aerobatics through the verbal ones she was throwing into the world.

Her eyebrow raised, and she was about to answer up that she had no idea what he was talking about until, out of seemingly nowhere, Titus got up from under the table next to her. Had he been watching her work this whole day?

“UH. I had no idea he followed me here from the park, I thought he stayed? Wait- why don’t you have your dog on a leash? That’s crazy dangerous, what if you couldn’t find him again!?”

Damian let nothing crack through his façade of a stone face but internally he could have laughed. Of course, he didn’t know how to truly express this to a strange woman like Marinette, so he said what he would’ve said to anyone that dare question the care of his animals.

“Tt. He has a tracker and keeping him on a leash in a dog park would be idiotic. I can find him wherever I am in the world, and he’s smarter than most. He finds good people.”

Marinette was defensive about his tone until his final statement.

“You’re right, he found me and I’m the luckiest person in this whole city.”

Damian raised a brow, not understanding the inside joke she had made for herself. He was uneasy that it maybe sounded like flattery heading his way.

“I mean, he’s a good dog and caused no trouble. It’s a bit weird, he never got close enough to me for me to pet him.” Marinette saved her statement after a very brief moment of watching Damian look not quite confused but also not quite understanding her either.

“Correct, not just anyone gets those privileges.”

And in direct opposition to Damian’s internal wishes for the dog to get up and come home with him after a long morning of bank robberies that took Damian from the park in a hurry this morning, Titus leaned forward into Marinette’s space and sat his head in her lap. Marinette flushed and Damian resented how cute it was.

“…I suppose you're not just anyone. But Titus and I need to get going, any chance you can scratch behind his ears and push him away?” Damian felt exhausted, keeping up a stone-cold appearance in front of someone who screamed genuine was taxing. He needed to get out of here before he did something embarrassing again, and also to report to the Batcave to share his debrief of the morning. He could already hear his brothers and father giving him shit for not being punctual. The thoughts evaporated from his head when Marinette looked up and made eye contact with him, the expression on her face was difficult to figure out, even for a trained assassin like himself.

“I think Titus wants to stay, and I just finished lunch, why don’t… why don’t you join me for some, uh, afternoon coffee?” she scratched behind his ears but all the while the dog did not move.

To say that Damian was shook, while more youthful and age-appropriate in verbiage than he would ever be in his life, was accurate. He felt himself freeze like a goon in an alleyway.

“Unfortunately, I really do have to get going but otherwise I would say that this an odd twist of fate considering yesterday.” She fidgeted so much Titus was actually lifting his head off of her, perhaps this was Damian’s chance to escape the very uncomfortable feeling of social dread. Confidence in himself in social situations was currently at an all-time high.

“About that- I don’t think dating clients is all that approved of.” She could have slapped herself upside the head for that one. Was she inviting him to her table for coffee or not? Sending the right signals was like doing physics homework, the prompts were awful, and all the objects of her attention have too much gravity for her to get out of orbit and make sense of.

“And if I were to blow off my responsibilities and sit down with you now?” She knew that her entire face had to be red at this point, even the dog got up to go stand by his owner. Damian had half a smirk on his face and he leaned his forearms down on the empty chair that he could potentially join her with. The two made eye contact and Marinette did the mental gymnastics that would validate both of her previous statements. She wanted him to date but also not date her at the same time, a Schrodinger’s date.

“…uh, well…Friends can have coffee?” her voice got higher and more uncomfortable as she posed the question-that was meant to be a statement-but came out wrong none the less. _Kill me now_ was a unanimous thought between the pair.

“Oh. Enjoy your Saturday. Come on Titus.” His face of stone gave away nothing with his very curt response, but she had seen his sly smirk after being invited to join her. Confidence in himself to survive social situations was at a new low. _Gods let this day end._

And with that the two boys in her Saturday morning were gone, one walking away with having his ears scratched and the other with having been essentially jerked around emotionally by her inability to flirt.

She paid the waiter for her lunch and decided to be out in the city posed too much of a threat of running into him again, she was headed home to bake something sweet and get her head on straight. She could already hear Tikki laughing from her bag at the luckiest girl in the world.

* * *

“Damian, It’s unlike you to be tardy, did everything work out with getting the witness to the precinct for her police statement?” Bruce looked up at his youngest son entering the Batcave, being the very last of his siblings to join the debrief.

“Yes. The mission went well.” Damian continued to walk his way in, avoiding the side punch that Jason threw his way and the head pat that Dick attempted.

“No comments on being late Lil’ D? Come on, you always harp on us, lets hear the excuse!” Tim added in, his caffeine apparently at working levels today. Damian glared harder, the room got colder, and Bruce knew the years were catching up to him.

“I have none. Which is more respectable than your constant barrage of poorly timed and poorly executed nonsense. Are you sure you didn’t have another file corrupt?” Damian sat down in one of the swivel chairs and looked away from everyone in the room, his eyes focused on the screen central to this area of the cave.

“Hey it’s a valid reason for not being here and you know it!” It was an indignant response, and the brothers and not-quite sisters all came to the conclusion that there was no way Damian would respond now that he’s verbally won the battle.

“Damian, is everything alright?” Barbara was the first to speak up after no response came from their beloved Demon Spawn.

“Yes.” He huffed and looked down, clearly not interested in saying more, and trying to force anything more out of the young man would not go well, Bruce was sure of this.

“Okay team- let's hear it.” Bruce announced and the meeting began.

Damian was sure that the thoughts of a blue-haired designer would fade if he would focus on his work, but suddenly a poke-a-dotted hero was on the screen and he could have laughed at his fate. Of course, the first girl to jerk around his feelings (which he apparently had?) would be a magic-user.


	3. This part has a Bank and a Job

Of course, he couldn’t be sure, but really, and he meant really, what was the likelihood that he became infatuated with two women in the period of 24 hours when he had never experienced unwarranted female fascination prior? He didn’t want to be asked how he knew, opting to stay silent, but there was something he understood when he saw the photo of the ambiguously pretty but unidentifiable spotted Parisian.

Damian may have spent his years isolated from his peers, trained to kill and torture, actually killed and brought to life, and made to understand the reality of the social world around him but that didn’t mean he suddenly “got a clue” about women. It was purely deductive reasoning, but he honestly could not dismiss the conclusion he had come to. Did he have evidence? Proof of any kind or form? No. But surely enough of his father’s detective success stories started with a hunch that turned out to be correct. Damian supposed that this theory needed testing and actual data before sharing with the family, and for the rest of the night, unless prompted, he sat with his normal grimace.

Soon, with everyone dismissed from the cave and having fed the appropriate animals the appropriate amount of dinner, Damian returned to his room to go to bed. Sleep did not come easily as strange anxiety about this new hero, who was also potentially his newest designer, filed into the many wrinkles of his mind.

Around the most miserable part of the 4 o’clock hour, Damian started to wonder if maybe the infatuation he was so quick to experience around her had to do with her magic and his revival. Surely, the Lazarus pit had done enough, could it alter any more of the world he lived in? Could her magic be something he gravitated to because of his reanimation from the grave? The scar on his chest ached, somehow, a little more than it typically did.

A whiteboard was pulled out and he began to take notes on the thoughts that were eating into his much-needed sleep. A few color-coordinated markers and an easel to stand the board on later, and he began drawing the webs of his unease.

Damian knew he was no love-sick fool, that he was capable of controlling his emotions and decision-making skills, so why had he asked her out to begin with? Admittedly he gave a point in her favor for taking down the Joker with little assistance, that was indeed something that impressed him. Thinking back to what he heard on the comms that night maybe he did have something in common with the false heirs. He grimaced. He gave another nod to the fact that she was a hard-working employee who also ran a side business on the weekends. And another nod to the fact that she had both conventional beauty as well as an authenticity not mass produced like many others. She was a creative type, something he never envisioned himself enjoying and yet it excited him to think of the talent in her craft.

Of course, setting it out black and white meant expressing his disdain for her borderline insane manner about which she conducted business in a terror attack. He noted that this lack of self-preservation could have been brought on by a super heroine’s confidence in her magic, should his theory prove correct then she was perfectly sane to do so. He also took points away for work-life balance (not that he should be one to talk) as it seemed she was always working, be it for Edna, herself or her hero work. He thought back on the key points of the meeting, the information Barbara supplied from her initial investigation and the testaments of local Gothamites on Twitter, now inquiring about her being part of the Bat crew but being to cheery to fit in.

If she was or wasn’t the spotted Parisian at this point- he knew that she was entirely too adjusted to the world as a social human being and the idea of it made him uncomfortable. He had never done anything but struggle to conform and adapt to Gotham since arriving at ten years old, and even after his death, it's been an uphill battle in everything from not murdering villains to not murdering classmates. Again, there was something fundamentally screaming in his gut that he was right and to put the subject to bed.

He glanced over to the hanging wall clock, 6 o’clock in the morning, _great_. Damian sighed, he would just have to adjust to living like Drake for the day, dependent on coffee flowing through his veins. He looked back at his work on the board, but deciding it was too abstract to make sense to anyone but himself, even if his nosey siblings saw it he could be sure that their small view of his world would lead them nowhere. He did not erase it, but merely pushed it into the corner, out of direct sight to anyone giving a short glance into his room.

He could feel the lines in his glabella deepen as his scowl returned in time to face the day, and his family.

* * *

Marinette loved that in America, things were just open all the time.

Long gone were the days of rushed Saturday grocery shopping because the stores would all be closed Sunday. No more were her fears of getting to the laundromat too late to get the good machine because the hours were only from nine to three. Indeed, Gotham had 24 hours on its clock, and it made her procrastination for getting adult chores done, so, so much easier.

Hence, she was standing in line at the Gotham City Central Bank, waiting in line to deposit a belated birthday check from her Nona. She was brushy tailed, sure, being out and about on a Sunday was not something her European sensibilities were acclimated to despite her enjoyment in not fitting all things in on Saturdays.

She stood third in line from the teller boxes, and her sleepy condition made it so she nearly missed the change in security staff. Almost. It did however pose a question in her mind _, What an odd time to change shifts, America does everything so different…_ before realizing the new staff were all armed with larger weapons of destruction than average.

Her spine would have stiffened if not for the fact that she forced herself to keep a sleepy-looking demeanor, lest one of them suspect she had caught on. Marinette knew that playing the hero without her mask would absolutely not fly in here like it did with only once witness back in her office. One admittedly strong and cute witness but Hey! No time to think about that now.

Marinette felt like she would turn red if she went down the rabbit train of bad dialogue options she had chosen with Damian, so she instead forced a yawn that allowed her to rotate her neck up and side to side, counting the imposters along the way. 13 in total, yeah, she would be lucky to take down one or two of them, and given the right timing its likely she could get the two closest to the door and make her exit.

“NEXT!”

Lights flashed red and she made quick moves to dive under a deposit desk.

All hell broke loose, alarms blaring everyone rushing to lay down as a spray of bullets went into the air and Marinette felt herself retreat into her Ladybug mind frame. What items were closest to her that she could use, either as a tool or as a weapon. Pens, cards, hand sanitizer.

The loud laughing of her least favorite Arkham escapee made its presence known. _Great_ , she doubted that he remembered the name on her office door, but he would recognize her in person for sure.

How did he escape again so quickly? It didn’t make sense!

She threw the hood from her jacket up and began to look around for him. A haze of green seemed to start coming in from the vents, and the disturbing laughter of bank tellers started to get louder and louder in volume and hysteria.

Marinette grabbed for the hand sanitizer as quickly as she could, rubbing it beneath her nose quickly, the only fumes she breathed in being that of alcohol. She made quick work to closer her hoodie up as far as possible under her nose and forced herself not to mouth breath. Marinette hoped this might buy her a minute of two of sanity to have a few layers between her and the toxins. She spotted (pun intended) the fire alarm and knew that if she got up to pull it, that it would put her in direct harm’s way of the psychopath.

The clown was laughing, monologuing, and clearly just biding time while his goons did the hard work of robbing the place. He seemed to actually be waiting for the Batman clan to arrive, an impressive wristwatch swinging to and fro from his left hand, he wasn’t even bothering to wear it. _Did he always have that?_ He of course had a gun in his right hand, and the banner that said _Bang!_ poking out of the front did nothing to convince her that it wasn’t loaded.

It was like everything was moving in slow motion, and at three times the speed all at once, because as she sat there trying to figure out how to get out of the nonsense, the Bats were on the scene.

A clear window of opportunity showed itself, and while she trusted that the Bats were handling the goons just fine, she ran and yanked the lever for the emergency fire alarm, water pouring down and relieving many from the toxic Joker Gas bombs. The unnerving, chattering laughs died down as the toxin exposure was lessened and she was relieved until arms swept from behind her.

She made sure to grip, yank, and flip the presumed goon, and her no-nonsense actions led to a very grumpy looking Robin on the floor in front of her. The noise in the room had not died down completely however, gunshots ringing in the air, screams from civilians and the regular action movie sounds were all around, but it was like the world went into a silent, judgmental quiet when she saw the Bird themed hero on the ground in her hold.

“Sorry!” was all that she was able to squeak out, her face going red and her hands going up to cover her face in embarrassment.

“Tt. I’m aiding your escape, moron.” And without further ado, he was up off the floor, manhandled her once more and used his grappling hook to get her to the third floor, the direct to the roof access becoming clear to her. It was a mortifying ordeal. She all but ran from his grasp on her waist and made her way to the exit, not looking back for fear of making the situation even more unbearable. She could hear him slide down the metallic rope of his grappling hook, grabbing more civilians out of harm's way she had no doubt.

Marinette made it to the outdoors, undid her hoodie and took a deep breath before realizing she wasn’t alone. The Red Hood, faceless in his rugged gear, was perched on a gargoyle and the way his helmet turned made her wonder if she was suddenly out of place. A glance around told her that no other civilians had been removed this way just yet, and Red Hood seemed to not know why she was there all of a sudden. His body language told her she had been only a second from being mistaken for a foe and taken down.

A strange feeling in her gut, and maybe even the small motions of Tikki in her side bag made Marinette nervous suddenly about the vigilante. He approached her off his perch on the nearby gargoyle, one he could have pounced a goon from quite easily and with good forward momentum.

“… Do I know you from somewhere?” Came a deep masked voice from the Hood.

“Uh, No?” Marinette understood his sentiment though, it was as though a familiarity was already commonplace between them. “But I would love to get out of here, are more civilians being escorted out this way? Where should I go next?”

“Escorted out? By whom?”

“I think his name is Robin, he has a Hoodie and a horrible color pallet.”

“Huh. Yeah, that’s not normally his thing. I’ll get you over to the next rooftop though, but I need to be back here for the showdown, so let’s be quick about it.”

Marinette, having now been handled to fly twice, decided that she hated not being the one to call the trajectories. Red hood hadn’t taken her far, as promised, but it was a jarring ride to the shorter building rooftop. She hated every second of it, including the landing.

“You're really going to do a number on your spine health landing like that. You should remember to keep your knees bent.” Came out of her mouth without a single brain cell connecting to the other. It was like being covert about being a Superhero was completely gone to her.

“Meh, it’s not as bad as dying.” And with the short, morbid, lackadaisical response, he was back to the top of the bank, a well-timed punch landing on the Joker who had run out the door she had exited only moments prior.

Marinette looked over as the slew of bats ascended onto the Clown Prince of Crime, the police sirens going off below them, and then the joker being very, well, _gently_ , thrown down to them by one scowling Robin. Had he not saved any of the other civilians? It left a bitter taste in her mouth, the irresponsibility…

Marinette chose not to stick around, lest he try to check on her like they do in the stupid American rom-com movies, some hero. She could just rant about how this irked her, and little did the kwamis in her purse know, she would be ranting and for no short amount of time.

A jump and a flip later, she was down from the building and headed home, birthday check in hand and no new fabric being purchased after all.

* * *

Jason all but broke into Damian’s room when he got home- fortunately, the brat had left the door unlocked. He gave a single laugh at how neat his room was, no aid from Alfred even, and his cat sat at the end of his bed. Jason returned the side-eye Alfred the cat gave him, and proceeded into the room with only a single small fear of getting bit by the animal.

Jason knew he had to be quick- he had arrived home before the rest of the family- but he had to be fast in looking for something he wasn’t even sure about.

He knew that the demon spawn rescued the cute young lady from the bank, that this civilian made him want to adopt, and that it was too weird for those two things to be happening without there being some darker plot around it.

He all but gasped when he saw the board in the corner, a web of red string haphazardly strewn about and half-erased words replacing half-written ones. It was a marvel.

Jason pulled out his phone, took a quick snap before he heard the hissing sound come from Alfred the cat. He knew his time was up and made moves to leave the room, the door pulled behind him with a snap.

“Todd. What the fuck.” Damian said upon reaching the door his brother had just emerged from, the door that belonged to his room.

“Just locked your cat in there Demon Spawn, no need to get testy.”

“You're a liar and a rube. What is your business in my room?”

Jason laughed and landed a hand on his brother’s head to ruffle his hair, it was a short happy moment ended with his brother flipping him over. He scoffed and stepped over his elder sibling, who at this point was just laughing to be obnoxious. Damian entered his room and ensured that when he slammed the door back it crashed into Todd’s skull, just for added good-willed measure.

Jason snickered after grabbing his now injured head, but like the cat who got the cream, he smirked and got up. He knew demon spawn had something to do with this, and he knew that the girl must’ve been something special to get his brother's attention twice now. It's not like Damian to aid people he has met without the mask, or, well, at all.

Jason made his way to his room and opened the picture he took. It was time to get deciphering…

* * *

Marinette sneezed.

It was a bright and early Monday morning, she was miserably on time and somehow, the Gotham wind had gotten her. No matter how cute her pea-coat was, it was seasonally time to pull out the big guns. It was officially puff jacket and trench coat time. Marinette could have sneered if not for her freezing nose, of course, she would spend the majority of her education focusing on human form and then get a job best known for its encompassing suits and outer wear. She had heard a rumor in the hallway that Edna secretly designs skin-tight catsuits but it seemed so far off the mark for everything the fashion house made. Rumors grow in a split second in the fashion industry, she remembered learning that the hard way with Adrien and his Lila situation.

The poor boy was going to have a heart attack should he connect the dots (once more, a purposeful pun) and see that she was yet again at the mercy of the Joker.

Walking in the cold, despite her morning fog, woke her up to be a little bit afraid that he was out and about so quickly and in such close proximity to her. Had there been a Wayne at the bank? She ruled it out, rich people didn’t have the same fun chores. But then again she didn’t think that she could recognize them all anyway, the head of the family had a thing for adopting and as much as she respected that, it became difficult for her to keep up.

She got into the warm haven of the front lobby of Edna Mode’s building and began making her way to the office and studio of the woman herself. She was aggressively optimistic that this was going to be something great for her career. Intern to Seasoned career woman? Maybe working on the haute couture line for spring? Marinette could start flying with how quickly she was filled with joy imagining the possibilities of what could come from her boss.

“Mme. Mode! Good morning!” She stressed happiness and hopefulness into every syllable.

A loud groan filled the room, and the tall chair behind the desk swiveled around to show the very tired and coffee consuming woman. Marinette found the introduction to this disposition on her boss to be akin to finding a kindred spirit. She GOT this kind of morning energy.

“Yes, yes, you’ve arrived brighter than a ray of sun, now shush darling, I have many things to share with you.”

Marinette could’ve laughed at how her disposition normally would have matched Edna’s but for now she gave a soft smile, and took a seat.

“I’m promoting you to a full-time employee- don’t get excited that’s not the best part- and you’ll be working exclusively with some of my higher risk clients.” The drawl of her accent came through loudly in the room, and yet her words were resting on Marinette with some question in her mind about a language barrier. What was high risk? Did she mean High profile?

Marinette’s elation turned confusion must have shown plainly on her face.

“Meaning, you know how to handle yourself young lady, and when we have such rude interruptions in the office space like that of the ugly little clown man, I want you with my most precious clients. Right now we have two of the Wayne boys to dress for the Gala, you’ve already met one for measurements but shortly you will meet another and from this point on you will be their main contact in the office. Normally your work to collect measurements and ask after preferences would be just that, but now I want you using your talent! Igniting the flame of fashion! Watching the other men and women weep for not having access to your designs! You shall dress them, and you shall win!”

“… Mme Mode, what do you mean by win?”

“I mean you keep your job Darling.” It was a very point-blank _Don’t mess up_ message very suddenly and it was the tonal shift that she had come to expect, she kept on her toes.

“Oh. Excellent! Thank you for this opportunity!” Marinette stood and gave a small bow with her head.

“Of course, and stop by anytime, it is always so good to see a bright face in the morning.” She gave a little wave of her hand and then the chair swiveled around once more.

“Will do Mme Mode!”

“And see my secretary on the way out! She’ll have your schedule of clients determined. Ciao!” Edna had spoken as Marinette made her way out of the large studio, coincidentally, Edna’s secretary was making eye contact with her and shuffling papers.

“Au revior!”

Marinette’s elation at full employment was not hindered by a sudden boost up the totem pole, but it did make her nervous to potentially be in the limelight again. She had put her figurative cowl as MDC away for good reason, high profile clients were a lot to deal with. But at least she had experience in her step as she took on climbing the corporate ladder.

Now, which of the many adoptees was going to be her next client? She decided it might be worth it, after all, to try and Keep up with the Kar- no wait- Waynes. Keeping up with the Waynes. Ugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever to get out! Essentially, Damian went "Two different women, no, that's too many, I have only one heart emotion to spare." I kept rewriting the bank scene to make Marinette a badass and to give Joker some lines, but then I decided that I see it in every maribat fic and I wanted a different flavor. I have a couple more headcannons up my sleeve and I'm trying to make this not like every other fic (not that I don't read and love them too!) so pardon me if it takes some time between chapters! Also: should the next phone call back to Paris be with Chloe or Alya? I cant decide lol.


	4. This bit has a... Tank?

“I really think it's just Demon Spawn trying to figure out if he likes the girl. Really.” Tim Drake announced, caffeine mixed 50:50 with blood in his veins looking at the projected photo on the wall and his quite nearly insane reanimated older brother.

“NO! Look Closer! He puts the words “spots and freckles” with a question mark! He’s talking about her being the Parisian lady from the other night! He’s connected it!” Jason had a look in his eye unlike his other manic episodes, he didn’t look like he was in for the kill, but more on the hunt.

“He hasn’t connected shit.” Tim closed his weary eyes. He had spreadsheets to approve of in twenty minutes when he was sure his secretary was going to walk in and nosily take a peek at whatever it was Jason was screaming about. The office staff always had a gossip holiday anytime Jason came in, and it irked Tim to no end.

“Then I’ve connected it from the notes from Lil bird’s wild pros and cons list for a girlfriend!” Jason was pointing at a few things in the photo, following the nearly randomly strewn red ribbons in the captured embarrassment. Gods this was going to get them killed if Damian found out…

“Let me rephrase then… YOU haven’t connected shit. Dude, there is no evidence for this and even if I believed you, the two women, who we have all seen at this point, looked nothing alike. Plus, you mean to tell me that Damian, our little ball of rage and long English prose, can’t write neater notes about connecting identities? He clearly is losing his mind over a CRUSH and nothing else!” Tim gave his outburst of energy for the day on this, and really, was it worth it? He was immediately trying to come up with another angle, this conversation had gone round a circle too many times.

“Timmy- Tim- My dude, I know your brain is in there somewhere! Listen to yourself! He’s losing his shit writing these notes because he himself realizes that of course, he can’t like _just some girl_ , he found another hero to fall in love with! The fucking brat is beside himself!” Jason threw his arms up in the air and was clearly exasperated with his responses.

“Jay.” He cleared his throat. “Why does this matter so much to you? Are you trying to ask her out?”

“You’ve been dumb all day and then you go ahead and get dumber instead of listening to me.” Jason completely flatlined with eyebrows and all mania in his facial expression gone into the face of disapproving neutrality.

“All I’m saying is that you're awfully invested in Damian’s potential love life, and if so, you should take it up with him instead of sneaking around and arguing about it with me.”

“I’m invested in this lead to the new hero and you're acting like I’m being a bad brother.”

“Are you not though? Damian’s hugely private and you snuck into his room-“

“It was unlocked!” Jason announced loudly.

“And took pictures of what was clearly a personal project! It's fucking rude!”

Jason was silent at that.

“Maybe you're right, I’m coming at this from the wrong angle, I need to gather evidence and then approach him with the spirit to collaborate.”

“…You’re a nut. He’ll figure out the woman if he wants to, and he’ll do it in his own time.”

“Not evidence of a crush! Idiot! I mean about her being a magic user!”

“Okay Jay, good luck with that.”

“Whatever… You’re just saying it’s a romantic lead cause you’re trying to get me from ignoring the fact that you found your long-lost designer! Oh boy, are you in _love_ with the idea of being measured, poked, and prodded by THE MDC!” Tim turned pink at this and Jason knew he had him. Tim got out of his office chair and began pushing Jason towards the singular visible exit.

“NO! I’m excited to get a well-crafted, and personalized suit for the Gala from Ms. MDC! It’s nothing more! Stop laughing! GET OUT OF MY OFFICE.” And with that Tim’s office was quieter and the hall outside his door was louder filled with obnoxious laughter. Tim turned once more to the picture being enlarged on his wall and quickly shut off the projector. He sat back into his chair and put his hands into his hair.

* * *

Marinette contemplated calling Damian, whose number she received when she took over his client information, a new perk to her job was being in control of knowing all there is to know on everyone she would be working with. It was like being handed a critical government briefing on each person, down to who couldn’t stand chewing gum and who hated poke-a-dots. Marinette, ever thorough, found it to be an excellent resource but now she sat at an impasse.

If she called him, she could briefly discuss the transition of power, that she would be his primary designer from here on, and ask which of his siblings (oh gods there were so many files) would be joining him. If she called him, she also stood the risk of putting both of her sensible black kitten heels into her mouth as her feet got in the way of her words. _Oh gods_ what if he asked her out again and she said yes? What if they then went on dates and started seeing each other and she got fired for fraternizing with a client? _Oh gods_ what if he wanted nothing to do with her ever again and she already lost her first client? What if his family had already blacklisted her! What if they already told Mme. Mode that she was blacklisted and she needed to check her email for a severance letter?

She took a glance over at Tikki, who was resting all nestled up in the middle of a bromeliad Marinette had recently brought in. The sharp pink the plant presented brought her a distant memory of her garden at home and she settled herself. If she didn’t call him, it would be unprofessional, and he would be surprised by her at the door which could cause more confusion and awkwardness.

She sighed and resigned herself to the fate of whatever came from her nervous mouth. 

Marinette picked up her office phone and prayed she would be sent straight to voicemail.

“This is Damian.” Was spoken after only the first ring had gone through.

“OH! Yes, Hi, hello, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng from Mode fashion house?”

“Yes, Caller ID told me that.”

“Ah! Pardon me, well, I’m just calling about your appointment today.”

“Yes, I have already confirmed that I would be coming.”

“Yes, I see that confirmation but I actually-“

“Well if that’s all settled then-“and it sounded like he was going to hang up! The nerve!

“I just wanted to let you know that I will be your head designer from now on and that I look forward to working with you!” She bomb rushed through her English translating to get her message into the universe so as to get the arse to listen to her before he ended the call.

“Oh. I see. Thank you for the update.”

“Yes, of course. And if you don’t mind, could you please tell me which of your siblings is joining you for the consultation today? We have an appointment blocked after yours but it only lists the last name.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t realize I would be having company. Sorry, I cannot help further.”

“I see, well, thank you none the less, see you soon.” Marinette went to hang up and saw that it had been done for her. She gave a short hum but decided to think back on their interactions without the rose tinting she often had for handsome green-eyed men. Maybe this would be the motivation for her heart to give up, she begged and pleaded it to all the time.

Did she really think that much of him? Why was she getting so frazzled over him after two short meetings? Marinette normally would take the time to overanalyze these emotions and her plan of action but she had a whole day to jump onto and a whole Rolodex of clients to call.

She picked up the phone and made her calls. She was a businesswoman yet, but the designer in her was proud of her personalized calls, and she knew that this aspect of the job could not kill her.

* * *

A crash of glass was heard throughout the building and Marinette quickly noted that what could kill her was her other job. Chaos was in the air as she looked around, the windows in her office barely withstanding and showing her a view into a near war zone.

Troops were in the streets and was that- it was a GCPD tank? Was Commissioner Gordon driving a tank in the city streets? Marinette gave a glance to Tikki who was bouncing at the opportunity to stretch her wings, she was transformed in a second and out the broken window in another.

It was time for Ladybug to make her big Gotham debut.

Never one to slink in the shadows or rely on the darkness for security, Ladybug threw her yo-yo into the world beyond her office and made the leap into the war zone.

She was quick to determine the root cause of the battle, made efforts to thwart bullets spraying her way, and noted a few of the daytime Bats helping down below. Ladybug made quick work to apprehend the firing drones and the larger guns, bazookas even, first. Ladybug knew her magic could protect her from a lot, but she never liked to give fate the chance to catch up on her good fortune. She did her best to avoid the bullets that came her way, it would not help to have conspiracy theories about being bulletproof grow, those kinds of rumors made the worst come out in people. She gave a thought to the dynamic of Superman and Lex Luther, and she knew she wasn’t ready for her next hawkmoth. She just wanted to help, and so, here she was.

She had noted the beauty of the streetlights when walking around as a civilian, but in her spots she noted the perfect curve the top arm of the light had, and used this to her advantage, maneuvering their downfall to get in the way of the tank traps, essentially working to floss between and stall them. Three different tanks she was able to take down this way, more if you counted the ones that rammed into the stalled ones. The goons clearly didn’t appreciate her laughter as she swung about and caused their formations to fall apart. It was a beautiful thing to see from the sky what they had probably worked so hard to draw on a chalkboard.

But ladybug was far from done, even after the GCPD was making quick work of the stragglers she and the other vigilantes left aside. She found that she only got a blur of the other heroes helping, and it bothered her not to be able to communicate and thank them, or even just share strategy. She called out once or twice but really, this was no grand team-building exercise. She called for a Lucky charm and found that a rubber ducky fits into the barrel end of a bazooka very well. Who knew that Tikki had that kind of knowledge?

Ladybug also made quick work of the gargoyle, pulling them down below her after she swung from them. The toppled and trapped below the goons in the alleys, preventing them from escaping and giving her enough time to get to them and hand them over to Commissioner Gordon. He gave her some very odd looks like he wasn’t quite grateful or quite angry at her. She decided he was an odd man but hey, she was an odd hero for the likes of Gotham.

It was clear her destructive but helpful path was starting to garner unrest on the side of the GCPD and the Bats, but it worried her not. Once the final goon was apprehended and the bullets stopped, they were no closer to catching the mind behind the attack, but Ladybug was ready for her show.

News agencies were clearly tailing her trail through the sky, all focused on what she would do next and likely how much damage she had wrought. Good.

Ladybug gave a single “Bonjour!” before calling for her “Miraculous Ladybug” and watching her magic soar through the air and clean up Gotham. Amazement was the only emotion the crowd, cuffed goons, and all present were able to display. Ladybug gave a laugh, it was indeed, pretty amazing.

She flew off on her yo-yo and made her way to buildings not far from her own office. She would have to walk back but it would be worth it to cover her identity. She didn’t know the current time but she thought that with any luck- yes she knew- that she would be able to greet the Wayne siblings on time. 

As she landed, she was very glad she did a glance around before calling off her transformation. A certain traffic light-colored bird lingered in the shadows of the rooftop.

“Bonjour Monsieur Robin. Lovely day isn’t it?”

“So your magic can suspend all damage in battle?” He was curt, ignoring her pleasant conversation. But he stepped forward from the darkness and came into her space on the rooftop. It was odd to get such a good look at him, Ladybug did what she could to avoid studying the curve of his jaw.

“Non. And its actually a bit cold out, I think I need to be on my way.” And she drew her yoyo from her hip once more, preparing to throw it.

“Hm. I’m sorry to hear that your suit leaves you cold. Do you know the full range of your magic?” Was that concern in his voice? Was a Bat capable of concern? Maybe this was propaganda from the movies and the media but she thought their whole schtick was not expressing human emotions?

“There is no need to know the full nature of something like magic, it’s a foolish quest. But thanks for the worry, I will be just fine once I’m on the other side of that building in less than three minutes.”

“In less than three minutes?” He took another step closer, but his question wasn’t harsh like she expected it to be.

“Come on now! You have to earn some of these trade secrets. Besides, something in your aura tells me that you understand magical time limits....” She was clearly joking but it became clear to her that he did not take it as a joke. She stood closer to him this time, the two of them now in a comfortable closeness that was unfamiliar to both of them.

“What does my Aura tell you about my death?” he nearly whispered it, suspicion and apprehension were laced into each word that escaped his agape mouth.

“It didn’t tell me you died but that …makes sense.” She gave him a soft look at the worry etched into the lines that were hidden below his mask. He was so close to her, he kept his questions quiet, and honestly, Ladybug did something very unprofessional. She reached forward, a hand on one side of his face cradling his jaw, and then she placed a small kiss to the apple of his cheek.

His mouth shut into a line and she stepped back, enough red was starting to pool across their entire faces that they could each tell that the other was blushing. She lined her Yo-yo up once more, this time aimed at her own building, and flew through the air.

 _Wrong building!_ She thought as she swung and then landed, _but at least I won’t be late…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jim Gordon in a tank is directly from the Harlequin Cartoon and you can't stop me, but yes, the similarities will mostly stop there. I keep moving around the scenes as I write them, so there wasn't a call home yet but I figured you all deserved to be rewarded for reading this far! I'm blown away at the idea of people reading this, and more so by the number of comments, so thank you, thank you, thank you! Every kudo gives me more joy, every bookmark I smile and every comment gives me the confidence to keep going! THANK YOU!


	5. Noted in this part is an imposter

Damian made his way in a beeline through the Batcave, avoiding the eyes of his many family members who had heard his confession of death over the communicators and getting out of the suit as fast as possible. In his room, the suit now removed went into its usual cleaning bin but even then he felt as though he was stuck inside himself. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to be seen in a way that only a few of his closest family members have seen, and even then only Todd was the only one to see through and know it from his own experiences.

In the same hand of the discomfort, was also a sense of bright hope that allowed him the thought that he was more than a murderous reanimated corpse. Afterall, it took them getting that close before she had made mention of his magic-related condition. _So very close…_

Damian threw his hands onto his face, as it burned with the blood pooling from the sudden emotional reminder. She had kissed him… but she was French and he knew as much of their culture to understand that it wasn’t uncommon to share a kiss on the cheeks. But the way she looked at him before she kissed him, and the way her hand cradled his head to pull him to the right angle. She really was quite petite. Damian allowed himself a small smile before his alarm on his phone went off. Grabbing it, he saw that it was an appointment reminder for one Ms. Dupain-Cheng at the mode fashion house. He threw his phone into the pillows, his face red once more.

 _FUCK_! Was the singular thought possessing Damian, who was struggling with the idea of someone else's hidden identity for the very first time. In the many years of working alongside and in the justice league and teen titans, he always knew his coworkers in and out, and it was for the most part reciprocated. To go into a meeting with a hero who didn’t know he knew and who had just kissed him without knowing it was him who she kissed… a groan grumbled from him as he got up to dress and leave. A simple collared shirt and jeans, a jacket and leather shoes, and Damian was headed out the door without another thought.

Before he even got into his car, he realized that the company she had previously mentioned was already sitting in his car. Good gods, this day was going to kill him.

* * *

“Hello! Welcome back Monsieur Damian Wayne and… I believe you are Monsieur Jason Todd?” Marinette spoke as the two men approached her office. The face of cold nonchalance met her from Damian but Jason had a grin not unlike Adrien’s when he found a stash of cat-nip.

“Howdy there little lady!” Jason todd let out in an awful fake southern accent, Damian looked over at him like he had grown three additional heads. Bu the turned when Marinette let out a loud laugh and gave a bright happy smile.

“Ha, okay Mr. Americana! My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but you can call me Marinette.” She reached out to shake his hand, it was not unlike the first time he met her. He received the same happy greeting and offer of informal first names, but the mirth that came with his brother's interesting choices was definitely something he missed out on.

“Good to see you again Ms. Marinette.” Damian let out in an even tone, giving away very little to his earlier mental battle. She gave him a smile as well, but this one was softer than the one his brother received.

“Formal as ever, but now we will be working much closer so no more titles, please! I am very excited to be the main designer and creator of your gala suits!”

“Not just going to stick us into a boring black suit now are you Mari-pop?” She turned her head with rapt attention when his brother spoke, and she had an odd look in her eye when he gave her a nickname. Todd was notorious for bad nicknames after all. Damian wasn’t sure where this was going to go but Marinette didn’t miss a beat.

“No of course not Jay-Jay, you don’t strike me as a boring black suit kind of guy. In fact, I think you might need a little flare of Americana in your back pocket.” He sat back and crossed his arms, something that read to her like he was closed off from the idea, but the look in his eyes told her that it was a trained response to an interesting idea.

“You want to put me in a cowboy suit?” He gave a jovial laugh with his question. But Marinette had a look of contest and sparkle to her eye.

“Why? You afraid of some fringe, on your leather jacket?” She challenged him, leaning forward on her desk, a pencil quickly grabbed from her utensil tray.

“I dunno, I think I could take it!” He uncrossed his arms, laid his elbows onto his knees and began leaning forward to see her sketching. It was a three-piece suit, not unlike a formal boring one he had worn so many times prior, but the detailing said leather and true to her word, was leather fringe coming off of the arms and around the back of the suit.

“Something like this, of course, we can work out the details but at first thought, let's give it classical American suit architecture and add in some western points. The fringe of course but only if you promise to greet every reporter with a very formal ‘Howdy’.”

“That’s pretty wicked. And I think I would love to make that a mission in my evening. You’re hired.”

Marinette laughed again but was cleaning her lines on her drawing. A few more notes were written, this time in French which was a bit more difficult to translate when it was in handwriting.

“Well then that settles the design, all I need are your measurements to construct it, and then I’ll have you galloping on that red carpet in style. We of course will have two follow-up fittings, as is classic to make sure everything is how you like it and is tailored to perfection, but for today I think we are all good!”

“Alright, alright, alright, cool, cool, cool. And for my tiny, itty bitty baby brother?”

“Oh, I already have a mock-up for him to try on.”

“You do?” Came from both men.

“Yes, Damian you might recall talking with me about using a more botanical theme, and after meeting Titus in the garden the other day, I was just filled with ideas. I was able to get some interesting designs into construction on my own, but when I got the promotion to be your main designer I figured I would take advantage of your ambivalence to whoever made your suit. And since I already had your measurements from that visit, although they may not be exact due to the horrid clown man interrupting so rudely, I went ahead and got everything ready for this appointment. I know you aren’t one to waste time so I figured if you care for the look, this can count as fitting number one.” Marinette delivered her stream of consciousness to the men and Damian could have given a big smile if that had been in his character, instead, he looked at her with some mix of interest and pride.

“How very… efficient of you. Thank you for putting my suit into such consideration, I’m sure you had other projects to be working on.”

“None more important or as free reign as yours, I also took your acceptance of my artistic inclinations to mean that I could go farther with it than I can with my more… in the box clients. Is that a term? Like they think in a box?” Marinette looked like she wanted to argue more about translations but the thought process was cut off by Jason.

“Yeah that translates pixie-pop, and who knew lil’ D was going to give us a fashion show today!” He let out, his good humor surrounding him despite the glare thrown his way by both sibling and designer.

“Tt.”

“You do not need to come out if it is an uncomfortable experience. I may be an only child but I understand sibling critiques are not always welcomed.” Marinette tried to add some levity to her voice, but it was clear she meant business about him not having to do the catwalk with his suit.

“I’m more than happy to try it on, and should it be up to par then I will wear it out. I am not one to be bashful or one to listen to anything that comes out of the rube’s mouth.” He could have sneered but for some reason that he was becoming more acutely aware of, he didn’t want to appear unbecoming in front of her. It was an odd mixture of self-confidence and insecurity in her perception of him.

“Very well, I will direct you to the dressing room where you can find the new suit and have a moment to change. I’ll join you in a minute should you not come out so we can discuss the aesthetics.” He gave her a nod and followed her small walk to the other side of the office, to which a trick door appeared from the wall and he was able to step in. She gave him a hopeful smile and closed the door behind her.

“Well that’s a neat way to hide a dressing room!” Shouted Jason from just the other side of the room, clearly feeling forgotten.

“Mme. Mode likes her secrets staying that way. You wouldn’t believe the security meetings we go through bi-weekly. You’d think she designed Superman’s suit!” Marinette was all smiles again, her business mode clearly turned off in favor of being friends with the man who’s aura gave her the same dark sadness of both Damian and Robin.

“Hey power to her! No such thing as being too safe in Gotham!” He was smiles and laughter but she knew that something horrible had happened, maybe even something fatal… Marinette also liked how silly he seemed to be, it was a rare trait in most adults.

“You’re right about that, you wouldn’t believe the headache I had trying to calm my family members down after the little battle happened in the street earlier. My mother couldn’t believe I was going to stay at work!” She did her best to look exasperated, in part because she was, it had taken forever to get off the phone with her mom after the war zone events of the day.

“Yeah you must have had a great view from here, it was only a few blocks down right?” Jason remembered suddenly another reason he had booked her as his designer. Now that he had gotten to tease his brother and see him in front of his little crush, it was time to investigate said crush to see if she was the spotted superheroine.

“I wouldn’t know, I was hiding in the dressing room!” She laughed trying to sound natural like she was really a scared little girl trying to hide cowardice, something that most people would but right from the get-go given her small stature.

“You? Hiding in the back room? I don’t believe it, you must have been watching with a birds-eye view!” He pushed on.

“Nope! No way! I was hiding, trying to pretend it was out of sight and out of mind!” She crossed her hands back and forth, doing her best to deny even being at the scene of the crime.

“Really? So you missed your own hometown superhero?” Jason seemed curious enough as he asked, but _He really isn’t giving up on this is he?_ She thought.

“You must mean Ladybug! I do regret missing her but my windows are all fixed so she must have been in the battle!” Marinette gave a gesture of “Look at me just now coming to conclusions!”, and hoped that it made her appear somewhat dumb in his eyes, thus giving an excuse for her story to make sense.

“So you know a ton about her is that right?” He looked like he was trying to crawl his way into her soul and she did not want any of it. They were still having a friendly conversation, right?

“No, I wouldn’t say that, I just grew up in Paris while Hawkmoth had his reign of terror.”

“Not a super fan then… Well, surely you could tell me and Damian more about her!” He was all smiles.

“Uh well-“

“It fits excellently.” Spoke Damian from the other side of the room, wearing the most gorgeous suit he had ever put onto his body in his life. It was clear he was trying to stay cold faced in place of beaming with pride in the suit.

Marinette soaked in her hard work and began to take in its details, looking for flaws along the way. It was of course tailored excellently, something she had never lost her tact for. It had the hard lines of brick architecture in contrast to deep floral peony patterns, wrapped from shoulder to shoulder, the appearance of a gothic archway appearing on his back. As he moved, the metallic silver strings she had hand-sewn into the printed off black, deep purple flowers reflected back light, shining with a subtle glory. The purple was of course chosen to bring out his green eyes, and damn if his well-manicured appearance didn’t make the suit a full look.

“Goddamn, dude. You look sick as fuck!” Jason shouted crassly and loudly, jealousy ringing in the air, or maybe that’s just the way Marinette heard it.

“It does fit excellently, how do you care for the look?” Marinette asked somewhat nervously, it was, after all, the first suit she had made for a client as a professional designer (no longer an aspiring designer).

“I could not possibly think of anything more interesting or clever to wear. It's perfect in many ways.”

“Demon Spawn give her more credit, it's perfect in like every way! You have literally never looked better!” Jason continued to be loud but it was clear the Marinette couldn’t focus on him any longer, she kept picking apart the suit with a critical eye. She paced around his brother, notebook in hand as well as chalk, making edits and marks both on her pages and on Damian. He stood still with his arms slightly raised, unwilling to speak while she was so close to him.

“Shush you, I will find its imperfections in a moment, but in the mean-time, I’m glad you like it, Damian.” Marinette responded quickly enough, a laser-precise look in her eye as she began taking in the collar and its silhouette. Which of course meant that she was staring at him straight on and her face was giving away nothing. Damian found it interesting how that sense of hope he had felt earlier when Robin was near to Ladybug, was ever-present. _Maybe Auras had something to do with it?_ Since he evidently had an aura of death.

“It’s been made with excellent craftsmanship and I am ever pleased in my decision to give you free rein.” Damian felt emptier as she walked away back to her desk and translated things she had drawn on the suit onto her pages of drafts.

“I’m glad you like it! It will have to do for the Gala then!”

“It’ll do more than just do for the Gala, of that I am sure.”

“Yeah! Little demon here is going to have to fight off the reporters and rich women with a baseball bat!” Jason gave a belly-full laugh at his brother's expense and the infamous Ice prince glare came out.

“Maybe so, but don’t forget that I will be making your suit as well Jason!” Marinette beamed but didn’t deny or comment on the idea of women chasing after Damian. It didn’t please her to think of it in the way that it normally would to have people chasing down her designs.

“Well it seems we’re done here for today, Jason have a great rest of your evening, I’ll have the receptionist reach out to you for a fitting once I have something made up. Damian after you change out of the suit, join me back here and we can talk through a couple more things.” It was her polite curt way of getting her new pal Jay-jay out of the way to try and get a better read on his brother. Though they both had chaos energy just pooling off of them in waves, she wanted to be sure if Damian’s aura matched that of Robins before she started to lose sleep over it tonight.

Damian gave a nod and went back to the hidden dressing room, and Jason stood up to leave. He and Marinette exchanged a couple more laughs between them at the ideas surrounding Jason’s suit. He seemed reluctant to leave but she had trapped him via a social convention. He gave her a big hug and left her to deal with his embarrassing little demon spawn of a sibling. At least he had a fun story to share with the family about Damian having regrown a heart after all.

* * *

Tim didn’t know exactly who was in front of him right now but it sure as hell was not the MDC.

He looked at the obviously photoshopped image of the fraud and Jagged Stone on the wall and he had never felt more tired in his life. Had he taken a flight to Paris just to be let down like this? That he was such a shitty detective after all? He sighed once more as the woman who was clearly, blatantly and quite rudely attempting to be MDC kept on talking. And talking. And talking, about accolades and successes that were not her own, the details all slightly off in every story.

“Okay well, I think I want to continue to look at other designers, so I’m going to have to cut this meeting short Ms. Um”

“It’s Lila Rossi but really, you can call me MDC, I don’t mind.” She had a sharp eye, clearly unnerved when he said he would be looking elsewhere.

“Right, well, Ms. Rossi, I would feel uncomfortable with that considering you are not the hidden legend MDC but carry on with that lie I suppose. I need to get back to Gotham.”

The fox eyed woman looked appalled, angered even, that he would speak the truth.

“But have I not just spent half an hour explaining to you exactly who I am?” She nearly shouted at him, the polite and coy air she had kept about herself earlier was completely dissipated.

“Yeah I mean, you definitely spent a lot of time trying to keep the facts straight but your work speaks for itself, I don’t know what boring designer you purchased to make knock-offs but I’m really just not interested.” Tim was already making his way out the door, and mentally he was already making plans to get some espresso and a pastry to console himself for making such a grievous error. _Not everything you read online is true kids…_

He grimaced as the woman was apparently still speaking to him, but he closed her office door behind himself. He took a picture of her name on the door and posted it to Twitter on his alternate Jagged stone stan account with the caption “The office of an impersonator. Sorry to all who followed my journey, I have yet to find The MDC. My trail goes cold once more.” Knowing that this post would blow up and take down this charlatan, he chose to save his energy in telling her off, trusting the internet would do it for him.

He made his way from the building and followed a mutual Twitter fan’s advice on visiting a café and boulangerie nearby.

It was beautiful to walk down the streets of Paris, he could understand the hype now that he got to walk around it like a normal human being. Man, he had taken PTO to come to Paris, and while it was nice to not have to go into the offices here, he certainly left a lot of work to get done on his desk at home. It was just nice to walk around without the association of his adopted family name, just being another man on the street was a nice way to be sometimes.

He made it to the Tom and Sabine Patisserie and reveled in the smell of the fresh pastries and espresso. The French truly had a culture for baked goods and caffeine that spoke to him.

A small Chinese woman took his order, she was ever pleasant and lovely while he gave her his order and his sob story over traveling all the way to Paris for a Fraud but at least he got to have some good food. And while the look she gave him didn’t read as pity, the immediate upgrade of a double shot to a triple was noted as such.

He took a table by the window with his plate of varied French breads and sweets, his coffee nearly consumed when he heard two women walk in and become very excited over something with the owner.

Tim’s French was pretty rusty, but he knew the word Gotham anywhere. Tim normally wouldn’t be so extroverted, but he decided the upgraded coffee meant he needed to interact more.

“Excuse me- did you just mention Gotham? That’s where I’m from!”

“Yes! There was a horrible attack there this morning but the savior of Paris was there! Ladybug was kicking ass!” Said a tall blonde model-esque woman wearing nearly all yellow. Beside her stood a calm quiet woman of Asian descent who although she appeared more reserved than the blonde, had excitement and pride about this development.

“I didn’t realize Paris had a hero?” Of course, he did know this having met her while masked the other night and having discussed her secret identity at length with Jason. The three women looked at him like he wasn’t just American, he was also an idiot.

“Yes. She is a fierce fighter and strategist. She will rid Gotham of crime, restore its peace and put its bat-themed heroes out of a job.” The woman was intense and part of him thought that he ought to recognize the two women from somewhere.

“I’m excited to see her in action then- is she the one that reverses time?”

“Ha, you’ve been misinformed, she simply reverses all and any damage done in an attack, it literally brings people back to life. She’s an actual Savoir.” The blonde one gave a flip of her long ponytail over her shoulder and grinned as she talked about the spotted hero.

“Oh, I see! Well, that makes that then, Paris has the best designers and the best Superheros… if only MDC was a hero am I right?”

“MDC?” The store owner picked up at this, her eyes had a sort of glee to them. "She is a Marvel, and I would stay longer to chat but I have a feeling these two will get you updated."

“Yeah, MDC is supposed to be from France, I’m a huge fan and I actually flew all the way here to meet with someone who I thought was her. I actually just left the meeting with her imposter before I came here.”

“Let me guess, it was a dishonorable brunette with an ugly fox shaped attitude? Green eyes and lying boldly to your face about facts?” The young Asian girl spoke with disdain and the blonde put an arm on her shoulder, but it wasn’t a calm arm, if anything Tim thought the blonde might be more pissed off than the other women.

“Yeah, that describes her pretty spot on. I guess she’s notorious for her impersonation then?”

“Ha! You could say that, funny thing is that she was MDC’s biggest bully in school.”

“… Wait, in school? As in you went to school with MDC!?” Tim didn’t even process the bullying information because he became immediately in the throws of conspiracy theory, how had this happened so perfectly! He had a lead! He might be able to find out more and then find her after all!”

“Yeah, and the woman who served you coffee is her mom, psh fake fans am I right ‘gami?” The blonde was definitely laughing at him but he felt like his brain might explode.

“Correct Chlo.”

“ahem, well I guess I am a fake fan, please feel free to educate me though! I really do admire her work! The name is Tim Drake by the way, I’m the co-CEO at Wayne enterprises.”

“Enchante, I’m Chloe Bourgeois, Paris’ favorite hotelier and this is Kagami Tsurugi, Olympic gold medalist fencer of France.”

“Would you like to join me for coffee- I feel like there is a great story about MDC and this Lila woman I met earlier.”

“We have time.” Stated Kagami, and they joined his table by the window, someone working the counter, now that MDC's Mother was in the back, brought by some more sweets and caffeine and Tim really did love Paris.

As much as he loved Paris, he also loved to destroy outlets of misinformation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK- I felt like the last chapter was too short, so here is one that's longer and with fewer scenes. Inconsistency is my consistency. IDK. Villain introduced in a cute way and I pulled a swticheroo! Note- I am not a designer so I have no idea what I mean when I described the suits- I just know I had a vision in my brain and I wrote what felt right lol. Cuter fluff in the next chapter- which honestly may come just as quickly but don't hold me to that. All my love and many thanks for reading!!!


	6. This little dity has some drama

“It's a marvelous suit, what more did we need to discuss? Damian appeared back into her office, back in his more casual clothing which was admittedly still very well-tailored to him. 

“Thank you I am so glad you think so! I just thought I would go over one more ...feature of the suit with you. You see, it's the very thing I wrote my undergraduate thesis on and I didn't think explaining it with Jason here would work very well, he seems to go on tangents.”

“Indeed he does. Todd likes to make a spectacle of himself.” Damian hummed along, sensing that it was a made-up excuse but deciding he would grant her the private conversation. Part of him hates to admit that if not for the suit and the intrigue around it, he would allow her a private conversation anyway. 

“That's something you can say as his sibling but I cannot as he is my client so I am glad you picked up on what I was putting down. Now- The suit is made of a custom light-weight bulletproof material of my own creation. I thought given the whole “High on the kidnap-for-ransom” list that I would try and contribute a bit more to your safety.” Marinette expressed this as she began pulling out sample squares of fabric, data and charts accompanying them. She continued without looking up to see his raised eyebrows.

“So, I designed this fabric with the help of some engineering friends in Lycee and only further studied how to mass-produce and assure the quality once I was in University. That's when I came to be in touch with Mme. Mode and she shared some excellent advice and offered me the internship. I know you might think this is overkill for a formal and guarded event but I have a feeling you would appreciate the perk of having a reliable way to watch your own back.” 

Marinette had handed him the swatches with her work alongside it, and honestly, most customers would give it a glance, and then decide it was the best thing or say that all they really wanted was silk. She did not anticipate the focus he seemed to be giving everything, but she was starting to learn that he was not the flippant ice prince that everyone had claimed. 

The two started to go back and forth. Damian was surprised to hear that her degree in fashion had led to her minor in polymer engineering despite her hatred of math and physics, and it is what possessed her to make protective fabric something more stylish and easily worn. He hesitated but eventually shared his appreciation for her art and its cohesive image to her brainpower, he even shared his own artistic inclinations in some brevity which had Marinette angling her head at the odd man in front of her.

“You’re almost machine-like in how you take in details and use them so effectively, has anyone ever told you that?” He made direct eye contact with her upon looking up from her work in his hands. She would have shuddered if not for the fact that she steeled herself away upon recognizing the intensity of his gaze. 

“Somewhere down the line, yes, I have heard that. What do you think so far?” She laughed off the compliment easily but she could have shone with pride at the way he glanced up at her. 

“I think it’s going to be a real shame when I never buy another suit.” He gave a side smirk as he handed back her papers and she could tell he was enjoying taking in her blush. 

“You mean, a real shame that you never buy another suit from anyone else.” Marinette used this conversation to assert herself as a businesswoman and she stood up from her desk. Damian stood as well and followed her as she walked to the miraculously immaculate glass door with her name on the front. The chaos energy flowed off of him easily, like fog on a mountainside, and maybe because of her close partnership with Chat Noir, it felt comforting and balancing to be around. It also felt similar to stand next to, something familiar to her in a red siren warning kind of way.

“Hm. Well if you remain my sole designer then I suppose we really never will go for coffee, what with the no dating the clientele rule that you’ve made for yourself.” Damian knew this was the most forward way of putting forth his sentiment to her mixed signals. He didn't know where she stood and he figured that for someone so well adjusted he would have to do the uncomfortable work of digging his heels in to find out.

“....Uh, well, like I said earlier, friends can go out for coffee, and don’t people say that the best things in life start as friendships?” Marinette really felt like screaming this at him, and she stiffened to prevent her arms from flailing around her. 

“I’m afraid even with that I am not sure of your intentions.” Damian was almost feeling ashamed that he couldn’t understand her at this point- was he not raised and trained to read people? Where was his natural instinct, how could this woman remain an enigma to him?

“I- um- well I am not entirely sure of my intentions either. I, well, I suppose I think you are very interesting but as I am so new in town… I just think I should start by making friends with people before jumping into relationships. Your disposition, well, um, intrigues me?” If Marinette was being entirely honest with herself here, she would be able to note her increased physical interest in addition to the strange energy radiating off of him was identical to the Vigilante she had seen not even hours earlier. She had not quite ruled out other suspects, like his brother in her office, but something told her with the measurements she had memorized that Damian was indeed Robin and that she needed to prevent him finding out that she knew.

“I see. Well, I assure you that I would never use my personal interest in you against your remarkable work should you decide I am no longer intriguing. I will, however, invite you along to the dog park sometime if you should wish it, no coffee necessary and I am sure that Titus would enjoy the extra company. He could certainly use a friend since I am already at a single friend limit currently.” Came Damian’s earnest and to the point response to her fumbled half-admission, he carried an air of orderly business as he stated everything, as though proposing a compromise in a board meeting. 

Marinette was so relieved listening to him that she laughed aloud at his final statement which earned her a near confused look on Damian’s face.

“Ha! I would love to be friends with Titus but really? A single friend limit? Do you only have one friend? How is that even possible?” She carried her smile brightly as she stood now from the desk, beginning to walk over to the side where Damain had also risen from his chair.

“His name is Jon and I think he might combust at the single thought of leaving me alone. We have been friends for too long.”

“Well maybe after some time I can meet him too.” She smiled brightly and likening her to the sun like a sap reading Romeo and Juliet for the first time was a thought that he tried to immediately squash in his own mind. The two stood closely now, both having approached her office door while engaged in each other's conversation. Both knowing that the meeting had run over time and that there were other things to do with the day, despite the odd magnetism each felt towards the other. 

“I think the combined positive attitudes of you and Jon might kill me but sure. After some time I will arrange it, he could use someone other than myself to keep him grounded.” Damian spoke in a crisp deadpan at first but upon hearing her laugh at the idea of his untimely end, he added some levity to his voice on what he will later consider an accident.

“I think it’s taken a lot more to kill you than some smiles- um- sorry I translated that wrong? It would take more to murder- GAH! I mean to say you look stronger- wait no that’s not the English phrase- you’re handsomely above- UM- its-” Her arms began to flail and she all the unprofessional anxious energy seemed to fly out of her all at once. 

“Titus and I walk in the mornings on Saturdays at 8 o’clock should you wish to join. We start at the south entrance of the park.” Damian was unnerved through the many strange translation issues that came from nearly nowhere given her otherwise fluent use of English, he cut off her ramblings in a way that many might assume to be rude. Marinette looked like she felt relieved that he prevented her from carrying on crashing through her words. 

“Right- if I am awake early enough, I will see you there! For now, though, we will plan to meet for final sizing and alteration in a few weeks yes?” She entered his personal bubble of space in a new way just then and it left him with a single word response.

“Yes.” She approached closer. 

“Perfect! Au Revoir!” And with that Marinette gave a slight peck to both of his cheeks and sent him on his way out the door, quickly collapsing behind it once the sound of the handle hitting the lock clicked. Marinette felt her heart racing even though it was a common send-off between her native french people, but she knew many Americans were not so open about cheek kisses. She also hated (and was elated) to think that she had now kissed this boy three times in a single day. What was going on with her??

___________________________

“Not too good for me now, are you, Dupain-Cheng?” Chloe’s haughty yet teasing voice came over the phone’s speaker in Marinette’s apartment.

“Never Bee, but just so you know I am opening a bottle of wine for this conversation. It was a stressful day.” 

“Girl it's like 1 am here, I have already been in a bottle for the night, get on my level.”

“I promise you, starting right now, I am working on it.” The sound of a cork popping out of its bottle was heard in Paris and Chloe laughed. 

“Well, while you pour your first glass and chug it down, let me share with you a fun little story about me and Kagami at the bakery the other day.”

“Oh? Do tell!” Marinette laughed, the idea of her mom helping Chloe and Kagami to delicious pastries in her absence gave her a jovial sense of her homesickness. The familiarity of Chloe, her voice, her attitude, everything, brought Marinette comfort. 

“ Well, Lie-la isn’t taking my Cease and Desist letter very well. This poor American lad- well he wasn’t poor by any stretch not that you could tell but he mentioned working as a CEO at an American company, Wan something- he had flown all the way to Paris to consult with her for a- get this- MDC suit! He was so upset walking into the bakery because he saw her as a fraud almost right away!”

“Okay that is both hilarious and so upsetting. Gods what do I need to do to get this chick out of my life?”

“Well don’t stress drink that’s the first thing, the second thing is that the American dude was so upset and upon sharing a lovely set of cake slices made by your mother- who misses you dearly and thinks that the daily text messages are not enough- was already making plans to expose her!”

“In what way? He is an American right? His audience online is likely American only then- how would he be able to help?”

“Let me tell the story!! Marinette it is so rude to interrupt!”

“You keep pausing dramatically! How could I not!”

“Shh. Now as I was saying. He had taken photos in her office and upon hearing our story, collected a ton of old articles and fact checks, bundled it over and mass emailed it through his company to every major news outlet in the EU and the States! It's going on blast tomorrow! Kagami and I worked on it with him- your identity is safe and it looks like a foolproof way of taking her out, especially since we were able to provide him with the cease and desist letters.”

“Huh.” Marinette could do little but just blink upon hearing this conclusion.

“Right? So cool, Americans are so funny, always so blunt and to the point.” Chloe was always trying to emulate them after all, she found these to be the most endearing of the stereotypes.

“Ugh don’t remind me.” Marinette was on her second glass of wine, which is why this slipped out instead of a more focused response on the oddly helpful American man in Paris. She slapped her forehead and promptly stuck the cork back in the bottle- she was cutting herself off before more incriminating things could come out.

“Why? One, in particular, giving you trouble?”

“... I don’t want to talk about him.” She then decided to pour out the rest of her second glass into her bathroom sink. A waste of good wine but evidently necessary.

“OH! It’s a HIM is it? Does Adrien know you’ve moved on?” Chloe teased. 

“Well Adrien doesn't know that I uncovered his secret identity and kissed him.” A very loud gasp and then a very loud “MERDE MARI” was screamed and probably heard through her very thin walls to all surrounding neighbors. Marinette now contemplated washing her mouth out with soap instead of toothpaste. She carried on in her routine as Chloe continued to scream profanities and excitements. 

“Shhh! Okay, that’s all you get- my teeth are clean and I need to get my spots in order if I am going to see him and pretend like it's not the third time I’ve seen him today.” 

“GO GET ‘EM GIRL! And Fly safely! Miss you bug!”

“Miss you Bee, and I cannot stress enough to you that you can tell Kagami and no one else about this man.” Marinette then moved from the restroom to grab her keys and walk out the door. Finishing her call with Chloe would only take a second and she used it to move to the roof of her building which had a conveniently broken camera. 

“I love this new Mari, she is bold and unapologetic! Go punch some baddies, your secrets will join me in the grave!”

“Love ya Chloe and tell my mom I love her next time you see her!” Marinette heard the final response of “will do!” before she hung up and called out to Tikki. 

“Spots on!” And she was sailing into the electrically lit Gotham sky.

_________________________________

Ladybug makes her appearance known to anyone and everyone in Gotham, including the main bat cowl himself. After a long day of managing his many children and his company, Bruce Wayne appeared on the rooftops as none other than Batman, and made strides to follow her. 

Red Robin was still away, something about a Zeta tube repair in Paris, so Nightwing and Redhood flanked his sides as he moved in to speak with her. His youngest had not appeared again after dinner, and rather than approaching Damian, Bruce decided to give him a night off. In the more current skies of Gotham, Batman was, even so, patient as to wait for this hero to finish tying up the petty thieves she had apprehended before approaching. He had read Oracle’s notes afterall, and after going through the testimonials of the heroes that had met or worked with her, he was optimistic about her being a strong ally. He landed to her side, startling her but not alarming her to the point of having to deflect a magical Yo-yo. 

“Ladybug, you’ve made quite the first introduction on Gotham.” His voice was just like it sounded in all the news videos she had watched since childhood.

“Monsieur Batman! And Monsieurs RedHood and Nightwing! Lovely to meet you all more formally!” She tried and failed to sound jovial but professional, instead of having turned up the sunshine to 11 at the sight of the three Vigilantes. Heer excitement died a little upon not seeing Robin hidden in the shadows but she decided tonight would be all business, as it should've been anyway. 

“Hi Ladybug! Nice to meet you!” came from Nightwing as a casual “ ‘sup, good to see you again.” came from Redhood. 

“Should we get down to brass tax?” Batman offered, to which Ladybug shook her head positively.

“Right, well this is perfect timing because I know you have all been at this strategy game for some time but I wanted to share some thoughts- Maybe on the rooftops? It’s hard to see you all down here.” A laugh came from the non-visible mouth of a red helmet and the spandex-clad group made their way from the alley’s depth to the more hopeful many-storied skyline. 

Ladybug begins to give them some of her observations- lots of bank heists, lots of joker activity and now a war zone in the middle of the workday? They need to be surveilling Arkham cause in her opinion, things are moving in and out of there with too much ease. It might be possible that the attacks drawing into the center of the city were meant to distract from something happening on the outer limits, it all smelled like a smoke show in her opinion. 

Batman and his team agreed upon collaboration in order to best use her magical abilities to prevent an ever-increasing death toll. Ladybug made it clear that it was magic, not a perfect science so relying on her Miraculous Ladybug call at the end of a battle was not always a sure-fire bring people back from the grave. They spoke in hushed voices for some time, but communications flowed easily between them. 

And although it would normally be Red Robin with a USB drive of beginners info ready, this time Redhood was the one to approach and hand over the training wheels file on the Joker and his associates. It was something the Bats would normally offer to a new JLA member, but this particular hero came with an astounding number of hidden credentials that Oracle had resurfaced. 

“Excellent, I will handle it with care. No chance this has a tracking device on it? I plan on opening it in my public library and leaving it hidden in a very special hole in the wall.” Ladybug said with some hesitation, she didn't want to accuse them of anything but she definitely needed to protect her identity before all else. 

“Of course no-” Nightwing started, indigent as he was cut off by a sigh.

“Yeah, that’s my bad. I’ll get you a new one tomorrow.” Red hood made a motion for her to throw the USB back to him, and she glared as she did it. Upon seeing the unmistakable upset from his adoptive father in a cowl and his older brother, he relented that it was worth a shot but he didn’t mean any offense.

“I take it as a full offense actually. I understand the destructive chaos energy you give off compels you in many ways, but you must never undermine my trust like this. My identity means more than you think to the fate of the world and my magic works best the fewer who know my true face.”

Jason hummed along, the hood coming in handy for his favorite way to show embarrassment- not at all. 

“Tell Robin to bring me the new drive tomorrow. He at least has been interested in building some semblance of trust with me.” And with that, Ladybug was in the night sky, irked that she couldn’t get started on her research mission and unsatisfied with the chaos energy of Redhood getting the better of himself. She made a mental note that the disappointment on the surrounding faces meant that he did this alone, and likely because he has his own motives. He was not to be taken at face value (well, helmet value). 

_________________________

Tim Drake was moving at a brisk pace despite his exhaustion of traveling across the globe in the manner of 24 hours, but made his way from the underground to the Wayne Enterprise offices via his normal walking commute. He carried a large box of sweets he had loaded up on in Paris, buying out the inventory remaining from the lovely couple that ran MDC’s favorite hometown bakery. 

He had pulled out all the stops to help uncover the truth about the offense to fashion known as Lila Rossi, and in doing so, spent his vacation PTO time very wisely. He smiled to himself at the idea of his information going live worldwide in a few hours, and the courts getting involved to end her reign. 

He had a single ear-bud in, soft music playing in his right ear as he made his way on the sidewalks of Gotham. It was a beautiful day with only a slight grey overcast, and he had hopes to make it better after a cup of coffee and nearly fresh french baked goods. 

“Hey! That box is from my parents’ bakery!” Came a jovial noise to the left of him and the rapid turn he made meant that the small woman who had expressed the noise was now losing her balance as he turned into her personal space. Tim had never been more grateful for his quick reflexes and his decision not to fix his other earbud. His eyes were blown wide as he set his sight on her.

“Miss MDC?” 


	7. This one has a vegan diet and a secret convo

The two separated and began to move walking in the same direction to the train station underground entrance, Marinette decided she would be pleasant but firm while still making her way on time to MODE. TIm was perceptive enough to recognize her despite his coffee blood levels dropping- he had seen her before, taking down a villain and rejecting his younger sibling. 

“Oh yeah- about that- I’m just going by Marinette these days. MDC was a stand in brand name until I could get on my feet. It's nice to meet you ‘Mr.American who suffered through Lila Rossi’ or whatever you choose to be called!” Marinette gave him an awkward smile, this was honestly a blast from the past that she had desperately attempted to leave, and being pleasant through it was something she was struggling to remember to do. 

“So you’ve found a fashion house here in Gotham then? I would love to commission you! I just got back from Paris trying to do that exact thing!” His smile beamed brighter than Adrien given a cookie after a month-long father enforced diet, its bright shine made her night owl self retract backward. Morning people (or at least people who were fresh and made anew in the morning) terrified her more than any grade school bully. She noted that he didn’t give his name. 

“Oh man- yeah that particular thorn in my side keeps up her charades of grandeur that’s for sure. But you got it relatively under control I heard? Mr. Um?” Marinette decided to deflect the man’s question about her current employer for two reasons, the first being that he had yet to give her his name, and the other being that some of her original superfans online were particularly persistent and stalkerish, she wasn’t sure yet who this man would turn out to be.

“I’m Tim Drake! Co-CEO at Wayne Enterprises. Surely you’ve seen the broadcasts already? I must admit I think I did a thorough investigation.” He went to shake her hand but given his large box of pastries and her holding coffee and a phone, it became an awkward movement that she half laughed with him at. They were now through to the station floor and she was navigating to the screens to check for delays, he followed in her footsteps.

“I browsed the article- I mean to read it at lunch today, which unfortunately I am late for work! Hopefully, I will see you around soon!” She gave him an honest smile which acted as a salve on the wound of not praising his work- positive affirmation was a drug to Tim Drake, and while he could go without it, he would never willingly choose to do so. 

“Miss MDC before you go- is there any chance I could possibly still commission you for a suit? A scarf? Anything?” He was aware of how desperate he sounded, he was painfully aware.

“That’s my train- Just come with your brother Jason to his next appointment and i’ll see what i can do! Au revoir!” She gave him a positive laugh and while moving away and onboard her train car with many other commuting Gothamites, she spoke her response back to him and gave a half-wave with her coffee cup still in hand. The train departed and Marinette decided that it could have been a worse interaction- although Marinette mused that she could not shake the Wayne boys, weren’t they supposed to be as cryptid as the Bat-family here in Gotham? 

Tim stood in shock. Jason’s  _ next  _ appointment? As in, he had not only seen her once before but would be going again,  _ presumably  _ for a suit? He had MDC as his designer and hadn't even thought to  _ mention it _ ? He let him travel  _ all the way to Paris _ without thinking to add that the designer of his  _ dreams  _ was here in Gotham?? And technically he had watched this designer take down the  **_Joker_ ** and turn down his little brother as his alter ego? 

To Tim it was official, Jason Todd was going to die a second time. 

* * *

Damien was strapping on his boots, lacing them tightly to prepare for the night's trials ahead, patrol would be something of a breeze if not for his new delivery duty. It shook his nerves knowing that he would be seeing her again so soon. The other day, with the attacks and her small simple kisses to his cheeks, left him feeling more the emotionally stunted child that he once was more than ever. 

He could hear the footsteps of his Father nearing him in the cave, his almost silent gait would have been undetectable by most. The beauty of their comm system is that they worked a little like hearing aids, depending on the setting, they could increase the volume around them. It helped for stealth missions into lairs and into Alfred’s kitchen after hours. 

“I saw that you already acquired the correct files for Ms.Ladybug. Be careful, it will be a fragile alliance if it will be one at all.”

“Tt. Of course, Father. It will be handled with care.” He scoffed and didn't make any effort to look up at his biological donator, instead focusing on grabbing his mask and placing it over his eyes. Secured onto his face, it brought him a sense of comfort like it always did. 

“Keep your communicator on, Oracle, and I will be monitoring from here in the cave. This is a tenuous situation and her abilities will be important moving forward.” The voice was firm as it ever was with The Batman, his father was clearly taking the administrative JLA route with this one. 

“Stating the obvious so frequently, you’re showing your age, Father. It will be done.” Damian gave him a glare he normally reserved for the B level villains (not quite his most impressive glares that he granted to the A listers like Bane, Two-face, the dean of Gotham Academy, Joker, etc.) It was not met with any good humor but it wasn’t returned. 

“Hm.” went the Bat.

“Tt.” went the Robin. 

And off into the night Robin flew, he would be early, so he made a few laps around his normal patrol route, it put some wind into his sails. 

* * *

“Over here little bird!” was the loud and obnoxious voice of one Harley Quinn on a rooftop, covered in blood and looking as manic as ever. 

“Making a pit stop.” Robin called over the communicators, before descending down to the ‘reformed’ clown. 

“What is it this time Quinn?”

“Hey- yeah! Love that new Bug chick on your team, is she like, creating new plant life in Gotham or somethin’?” 

“What? You’re making less sense than you normally do-”

“Oh no ya don’t! Look here Brat! The little spotted lady has gotta be doin’ somethin’ with the new plants all over town! My lovely gal Ivy is losing her mind ova’ it!”

Damian stayed silent, was this something to do with her powers of restoration? It was something insignificant maybe- but maybe it was a true observation and they needed to pay her powerful side effects more heed in battle. Robin chose to nod his head at her, she had continued ranting at him but he began to listen in once more. 

“Next time you see the cutie just tell her to swing by sometime okay? Ive’s and I are still at the mall, we wanna have her over for tea!” 

“I’ll consider it. Where is the blood from?” Referring back to her current messy state, it was alarming but only slightly so, given the fact that she had sworn off crime for years now. 

“Oh, ya know, it’s so hard to start a vegan diet! I kinda lost it when I was feedin’ my beautiful boys!” Harley looked ashamed and like she might give a big dramatic cry, but the look of danger she carried with her general being never did fade. It might be a good thing to introduce Ladybug to the Sirens before she saw any more of the town's oddities- if she could handle them, she would likely fit right in with the bats. 

“You shared dinner with your hyenas?” He asked it in a way that might have seemed incredulous- but he was fairly certain he should have expected this answer. 

“Don’t tell Ivy!!” She loudly pleaded.

* * *

“You’re alone?” Was asked softly behind him.

“Yes. And I have a new drive for you.” He made eye-contact before tossing it her way. She sat on a little ledge of the roofline, the half wall standing at only four feet so her head was not quite at his own stature. 

“I can trust that there is no tracking or spyware this time?” Her voice now had an irritated edge. 

“You can.” 

“Are you done with your patrol route? Maybe I could join you, see what corners you bats might be cutting.”

“Making short work of a deadly responsibility isn’t our schtick.” 

“And yet your infamous Red hood was trying for my identity and you deflected my last question.”

“Red hood is an asshole and acted alone. He won't be a thorn in your side any longer. Like a child, he has been properly grounded. And to answer you- no. I haven’t finished my route, and yes, you may join me.” She seemed to smile at his answers, he felt pride in answering them successfully. He always was the worst at dialogue option video games, maybe he could give the genre another go, he had made leaps and bounds in his communication skills lately. 

“I could do with fewer thorns, girls like me only like the roses for their flowers after all.” She gave a teasing response and leaned towards him from her spot seated on the roofline just feet above where he stood. Her sitting height was not far from his standing height, and he chose to stay within a four-foot radius. 

“Hm. Could it be that you have plant powers as well?”

“Bwah? What does that mean? I was making a joke about, um well, ya know how people will buy-” She sputtered and tried not to laugh incredulously. Dear god, was she going to have to explain that she was flirting with him? Why was she flirting with him? Her head was screaming for her to get a grip and she was so happy he interrupted her nonsense to explain on. 

“I spoke with a citizen earlier today who mentioned an increase in plants across the city, an unnatural amount. Have you noticed this with your powers of rehabilitation or do I need to look elsewhere?”

“Oooh, yeah, that’s fair. So technically, my powers stem from creation, not rehabilitation or restoration or any of the other things the press like to say about me. Part of that means I will create what is needed for balance. With all the cement and negative energies her in Gotham, I guess it means I likely create more plants and more positive energies than I did when I was in Paris. I’m restoring a flow in the universe that few can put a finger on but everyone is affected by.” 

“Interesting. And what-” Robin began to puzzle, a million thoughts and questions springing forward from this unexpected answer.

“Uh-uh. That’s what you and the crew listening in on get to learn for the night. I told you last time that I don't go for a single big reveal. You need to earn some of these secrets.” She jumped down from her little ledge and stood in his personal space. Her nose would have been inches away from his if not for their increasingly noticeable height difference. 

“Shall we go for a run then?” He almost felt nervous anticipation in asking her. 

“Good question, I think I will join you after all Robin. Lead the way.” She responded cheekily, her smile dazzling. 

* * *

Their run began with a quiet start, her keeping up and surpassing him in speed on the long jumps, but running harder to keep up in the shorter interim stops. It appeared to Marinette that he decided on leading her on a short tour of the city. Making few comments here and there about landmarks, different territories of mobs, goons and villains the like. He made a longer pause to explain where to enter the abandoned mall, which she found odd, and odder still that he mentioned she would need to know should she go there for tea time. Ladybug hummed along, not giving in to the unprofessional desire to ask him what he meant.

As they got closer to finishing their circuit, the original building they met on now in sight, Ladybug did something unprofessional after all. She caught up to him dramatically and tapped his shoulder with a call of “Tag!” Before speeding away.

“What.” Was all that she heard from behind her, and she looked over her own shoulder to see that he had not followed her conventional appeal for playfulness. Wasn’t Tag a universal game?

“Is Tag not something you played growing up?” Ladybug asked as she did a gymnasts landing next to him, his exterior appearing on edge and the chaos energy about his core flaring wildly. 

“I didn’t have a conventional childhood.” It was a curt answer that seemed filled with emotional anguish. 

“I see. Does it have anything to do with your, uh, condition we spoke about the other day?” Marinette knew this was prying, but she wanted to know what Robin would tell her. If any secrets could come forward to help him heal, her energy in the universe begging her to reach out to him. He sat silent for a second before she realized. 

“We don’t have to talk when you have an audience. I understand how that can be… uncomfortable. Even more so given the fact that I am a stranger to those listening in.”

She watched him debate it, continuing his silence before he reached up to his ear and plucked out a small device. He fiddled with it, and then looked up, the whites of his mask searing contact into her bluebells. 

“You said your power stems from creation, is that why you could sense my destruction.” He was near to her once more, finding a way to circle in her orbit like he had done earlier in the night and days ago after the battle. 

“In a way, yes. In the larger scheme of things, I’m here to help the city heal, the toll of destruction it has taken has been a great one. In the smaller scheme, I noticed your pain right away and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. About it. Uh, i mean about the energy.” She nearly could’ve jumped off the roof and died right there. This was getting dangerously close to a midnight moonlit talking to an attractive boy conversation and she could never handle those very well. 

“I’m glad you’ve been thinking of me. It’s a mutual experience. I’m not sure i understand the magic of it all, I doubt I ever will, but how can you heal me? Aren’t I healed by the Lazarus pit alone?”

“Oh, dear.” She hated that she couldn't reign in her eyes-as-wide-as-saucers look when he mentioned them. She had a lingering suspicion but she dreaded to hear it was true. So they continued to exist after all. He gave a look back that was attempting to be neutral but clearly, he had concerns.

“Well, I won't be able to get rid of the destructive energy surrounding you that’s for sure. The Lazarus pits are a very dangerous path of resurrection and few remain for a reason. I think, all I will be able to do is balance you when we do work together or are in proximity. Things will generally feel less bleak, send you into less frustrations or fits of rage, maybe increase your general karma or luck in the universe. But they won't have lasting effects on you like they are on the average joe.” Robin seemed to take it all in. Ladybug knew that a more physical touch might be necessary for a long-term result but she wasn’t going to offer it when he was still processing all that he was.

“So you’ll be a bright light in the world for me, but only if I’m near you? Does that mean I should begin to avoid you at all costs so I don't get used to disappointment or should I marry you?” He seemed woeful, serious, and made as much direct eye contact as he could muster with the whites of his mask. 

“I think I could use the balance as well, so I hope you don't avoid me. But maybe a date at the dog park before you propose, okay?” She circled his waist and pulled him close to her, the hug ensnaring her potential reveal of both their identities and comforting her as much as it did him. Their heart rates next to one another did not ease in comfort but instead began to race as implications set in. She looked up, and she was glad she did because it gave him the opening he didn't know he was looking for. 

His lips met hers and he felt right with the world. Her lips pressed onwards, and she felt giddy with contentment. 

* * *

“Robin! There you are!  **_What the fuck_ ** ? Why did you take out the Comm? Bats and I were listening for a reason!” Was shouted at Damian as he returned to the cave from Barbara, his father on her heels behind her as they came quickly to approach and reproach him. 

“I don't think my love life is any of your or father’s business.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone- I cannot believe the attention this story has gotten! I really never had a plan for it or even really thought people might read it, much less bookmark and leave comments and give it kudos! I am astonished, like, really really, at how this community continues to kick my ass with love. I’m sorry for the infrequent uploads, I honestly am coming up with everything on the spot a la the last 5 chapters so ideas are welcome. Please let me know what needs fixing as well! Some of my shit gets real ooc and sometimes I miss bits from the source material ( I honestly forgot Lila wanted to be a model lmao- working on making my mistake a plot point instead *wink). To everyone who has commented- You’re the reason this story gets updated, like for real, y’all are the most motivating thing in my life; Any chance you want to compliment my CV too? Anywho, all my love, xoxo E


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